The Trouble with Mr Knightly
by oh-you-pretty-things
Summary: Sometimes you forget what's most important to you. Sometimes life makes you forget. Sometimes all we need to find happiness is a little reminding. JS.
1. The Trouble with Coffee

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Labyrinth or any of the characters associated with the film. They are the property of the Jim Henson Company.

**AN: Ahaha. Hi, again! Did you miss me? Well, I have been working on this story for a while now (no, I was not neglecting the wonderful world of fanfiction). I had decided only to share it when the story was completed. However, I am getting antsy so I'll share the first chapter now. This story is almost finished. I'll post a chapter a week (not to collect a million reviews, as some might suspect, but to allow myself time to finish the rest of the story). **

**I dedicate this story to my betas: Jen and R.H. Jones. Jen asked me to write a story where Jareth and Sarah don't fall in love right away, and better yet pass each other on the street and not recognize each other. So, without further adieu, I give you: **_**The Trouble with Mr. Knightly. **_**:D:D:D**

_I guess the best place to start in this case is not at the beginning. The beginning was a long time ago. The beginning is lost in my memories somewhere. The beginning was really the end of something old and the start of something new. So, let's start with the something new. I think I can safely say that this really started about three months ago. Yes. I was leaving a job interview, completely frazzled and lost in thought. Actually, I think that's been my constant state of mind since that day…_

_Oh my God, I can't believe I blew that!_ I thought as I left the building. I always freeze up at interviews, always, always. Then there was the age factor. I mean, who wants to hire a thirty-three year old woman just entering the workforce with only a Bachelor's degree behind her? I kept hearing the old 'Well, the graphic arts is a rapidly changing industry, Miss Williams.' As if I wouldn't be able to keep up. It's not my fault that things turned out the way they did. It's not my fault my education got held back.

Okay, I suppose I should back up a bit. When I was sixteen, in fact on my sixteenth birthday to be precise, my father had his first heart attack. Well, that was an ordeal and a half. He had his second when I turned eighteen, shockingly enough, near my birthday. At that point, I started to think that I was cursing him. As soon as he was well, I moved out. I am superstitious, after all, and I couldn't bear the thought that I might be the cause of my father's sickness. Apparently, this had been a rather bad idea as at the beginning of my first year at college, my father had his final heart attack. Maybe it wasn't me, maybe it was _her_. Who knows now? Because, that's when it got really complicated. Karen disappeared. Where did she go, you ask? Well, who knows? Maybe to the same place my biological mother went.

So, imagine this. I am nineteen years old, finally enjoying a social life, and then I am suddenly the proud guardian of a bouncing five year old boy. Now you see why school had to wait? I had to work and work and work. I was a waitress, I was a maid, I worked in fast food, I worked in janitorial positions - I worked anywhere I could find work. A long time ago, I was very imaginative. _Extremely_ would be a better word for it. I believe that I dreamed up this whole entire world, with an inhumanly gorgeous king who was, of course, in love with me. I'm fairly certain, although cynicism and age are getting the better of me now, that I dreamt about this place vividly and constantly. Anyway, my point is that my imagination was stifled and hidden in the back of my mind while I had to deal with the harsh reality of 'real life'.

It was only three years ago, when Toby became self-sufficient, that I was actually able to go back to school and foster that imagination once more, bring it out of hiding. At fifteen, Toby was able to make his own food and start working himself. At least, that's what he did if he wanted to go to school…which he did. I finally went back to school, and here I am three years later begging people to hire me. Now, back to the fateful day…

As I was saying, I was lost in thought, not paying attention, when BAM! I walked right into someone. This someone was tall, dressed very well, and had a British accent. That's really what I noticed first – his voice. That deep, resonating, crisp, and almost condescending tone. But before that, let me state that I had caused this individual to spill his coffee all over his pale beige suit.

"I am _so_ sorry!" I cried, as I tried to wipe it off him with the napkin I was holding in my hand from my complimentary muffin.

"Don't worry about it," he said.

I finally looked up at his face. What an aristocratic, bony sort of face structure. A mysteriously attractive face framed with textured, chin-length, platinum hair. He tilted his head in a manner that seemed so completely familiar to me. His eyes, and what very strange eyes they were – one of his pupils was so dilated that I almost could have sworn that eye was brown instead of blue - were amused. An easy, remarkable smile spread across his face. Yet, I could feel my face crumple as I really began to realize the type of suit he was wearing. It was definitely Designer and I was definitely not in a position to pay for a new one. I tried to scrub at his jacket further, refusing to look back up into that beautiful face. He grabbed my hand.

"I said don't worry about it!" he laughed. "I have a dozen or so at home, no worries."

My mouth formed a perfect 'O'. I looked around awkwardly, once again refusing to look at this highly attractive stranger. He might have been watching me, he might not have been – I don't know, but he was quiet for awhile. I was surprised that he was still standing there; I thought for sure that he would have rushed on like everyone else in this city. But, he simply stood there in the middle of a very busy sidewalk beside _me_, a very weary woman without a hope in the world. Okay, except for Toby, maybe he could get it right. The only thing I could think of was that he wanted me to pay for his suit – but he'd just said 'don't worry about it' hadn't he?

"Do you work here?" he asked, genuinely interested. I finally looked up to see him staring at the building. I snorted derisively.

"I wish."

He immediately stared at me. "Do you?"

Something told me not to answer that in the affirmative. There was something about his tone that made me second guess myself.

"Well, I only meant it would be nice to have a job. Any job, as long as it's not waitressing," I mumbled, looking away. It's so easy to be ashamed of something I had no control over.

"Ah, such a pity."

I remember narrowing my eyes, I remember almost _remembering something_. But, it didn't come there. I watched him suspiciously.

"Why is that a pity?"

"Well, I only meant that if you worked here I might actually get a chance to see you again. Maybe learn your name, your likes, dislikes," he trailed off, staring at me amusedly with his strange eyes. "Your wishes."

My mouth fell open. "Are you hitting on me?"

He laughed in this sort of silky chuckle. "I suppose I am."

I was forced to smile in spite of myself. Throughout all the years of taking care of Toby and working three jobs at a time to do so, my experience with men was limited. Generally, I was prone to becoming involved with sleazy older men - managers, authority figures. It was a strange rut I'd fallen into. To have an extremely attractive, apparently wealthy man flirt with me like this was certainly new, especially after I had spilled his coffee all over his designer suit.

"Isn't that akin to stalking? Following me to work?" I laughed, but it was a serious question. Honestly, did he think he could just walk into someone's place of employment and sweep her off her feet? This isn't a fairy tale land!

"Hardly," he said, smiling widely. "I have recently opened an account here."

"Oh," I said, nodding, feeling rather foolish.

He stuck his hand out, "Knightly. Jareth Knightly."

"Sarah. Sarah Williams," I replied, meeting his hand in a firm shake. He smiled at my reversal of his own introduction. I must have been nervous, but I was holding up wonderfully. "Jareth. That's an unusual name."

"Hmm, yes. I've been told that it's a combination of Jared and Gareth," he shrugged. "My parents were hippies, what can I say?"

I had to laugh at that. "And, mine were unoriginal."

"Nonsense. Sarah is a perfectly lovely name," he stopped and looked at me as though trying to remember something. "It's funny, you remind me of someone. I can't remember her name, though."

He laughed and ran a hand through his hair. "Every time I try to remember, I just keep coming up with Sarah."

I laughed, too. Oh, he was good.

"I guess you've made quite the impression on me," he said, finally, smiling. "Well, I'm afraid, Miss Williams, that I must be heading in for my meeting."

I winced, staring at the coffee stain. "Oh, you have a meeting? I am so sorry."

He started to pass me by at this point, "Don't worry about it, they're more concerned about my wallet." As he said this he winked, and I smiled automatically. I started to turn and head down the street.

"Oh, Sarah," there was something about the way he said my name. It sent chills down my spine. "If you get this job, you owe me a date."

"What?" I cried after him.

"For the suit!" he called back, before disappearing inside.


	2. The Trouble with Eating Alone

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Labyrinth or any of the characters associated with the film. They are the property of the Jim Henson Company.

**AN: Ah, it appears that you all like this story so far, even after only one chapter! Well, I am fond of it as well, so I'm glad. :D I'm almost done now, one maybe two more chapters left to write, so I will start posting more frequently soon. Love love.**

I had never hoped for a job so much in my life, not even when Toby and I had been surviving on a feast of Kraft Dinner for two months.

To say the least, I was surprised when I received a call later that week to inform me that I had received the position. After I hung up the phone, several emotions washed over me. The first was shock, I had certainly not done well on the verbal part of the interview. Apparently my portfolio had been impressive enough to catch their eyes. The second was excitement; this meant that there was a very good chance that I would see Mr. Knightly again, maybe even get my date. The final emotion that shook through my body was nervousness. It was one thing to try so hard to get a position, and another thing to actually do the job on a day-to-day basis. I was incredibly nervous, deathly afraid that I would mess it up. But, I swallowed my fear and pounced on the phone to call Toby. Had I mentioned that he was away at college? Well, he was. I called Toby and I told him the good news. He was just as shocked, excited and nervous as I was. What can I say? We're tight.

I decided that tonight would be a fantastic night to doll myself up and head out for a lovely dinner for one at the most expensive restaurant I knew. After all, it would be a mere two weeks before I received my first paycheque, my first _large_ paycheque, so why not? I pulled out a dress that I hadn't worn in _years_. Remember, the men I tended to date were not the classiest, and it was very rare for one of them to take me out and really treat me well. So, out came the gown of black. I pulled my hair out of its repressed ponytail state and let it fall free. I swear I lost ten years from my face that way. A little makeup and I was ready to go!

When I walked into the restaurant, I was aware of the attention I commanded. It had been a long while since I had seen a man stop with his fork mid-air and his mouth wide open to watch me walk past. It was a great feeling. Normally I despise when men only seek me out because of my physical appearance, but I doubted that anyone would get up and leave their table to talk to me. I had no fear, in fact. I was nestled in a corner booth, illuminated by the soft glow of the tea light on the table, happily skimming the menu for something exotic.

I was not, however, aware of the attention that I had received from one man in particular. I did not notice his intense, very strange eyes watching me from afar. I didn't know that he was ignoring his date to watch me so carefully, dining alone. And, I would never have dreamed to assume that anyone would be that interested in me, especially since I had ruined his designer suit earlier that week. I ordered a bottle of white wine –yes, a _bottle_ – don't judge me, it had been a long while since I'd had _anything_ to drink, why not go all out? I also ordered some French cuisine I couldn't pronounce and devoured it politely. I finished off the meal with crème brulée. I'd have to say I was halfway through the crème brulée (and the bottle of wine) when someone approached my table. Someone who looked so familiar, but was really just a stranger. Someone who'd left his date in the back of a cab and come back to see me. Someone mysterious and rich; handsome and suave; and quite frankly, a little dangerous somehow.

He sidled into the chair across from me. It may have been the wine, or it may have been my belief that no one would do exactly what he had just done – then again, maybe it was both, but I was disoriented. It took a moment for my eyes to come into focus before realizing just whom it was sitting across from me. A wide smile crossed my face and I tilted my head flirtatiously; it must have been the wine. He responded with a suspiciously recognizable smirk.

"Mister Knightly," I drawled, extending my hand across the table to him. I have no idea why I did that, but he didn't miss a beat. Cupping my hand and bringing it to his lips, he responded,

"Miss Williams."

"Fancy meeting you here," I laughed. Oh, he was just too good. It was as though he knew my deepest dreams, kissing my hand like that. I felt like a princess, but princesses don't spend their youth working as waitresses in seedy bars just to pay the bills, do they?

"I noticed you here dining alone. You weren't expecting anyone?" he asked, looking around.

"Nope. Just having some 'me' time, which I might add, you are encroaching on." My tone was playfully flirtatious, almost painfully obvious and certainly something to be ashamed about. Yet, I had no shame that night, none whatsoever.

"My deepest apologies, milady," he smirked again, and it was terrifyingly exciting. "What is the occasion, if you and your crème brulée would care to indulge me?"

I leaned in, closing the space between us at the table, and smiled wildly, "I got the job, Mr. Knightly. Someone, somewhere likes me very much."

He leaned back in his chair and regarded me with those same amused eyes. "Yes, it would seem so."

There was something in his tone again. There was a nerve in my body, a voice in the back of my head that told me to run away from him and never look back. Really, why would a man of influence like him want anything to do with me? I was a nobody. There was something dangerous in his eyes, as well. Something that screamed at me that he would devour me whole, if given the opportunity. Then, there was the other part of me that _wanted_ him to devour me whole. It was a catch 22, but I decided to stick it out. It could be fun, even if it ended in disaster. No one ever said that I didn't like to play with fire, and likewise no one ever said that I wasn't capable of playing with fire. But, fire or no, it was his tone that was odd. I peered at him carefully, although the wine was clouding my judgement a bit.

"Did you say something to them?" I actually didn't put it past the man. Jareth appeared to be just the sort of man who did just what needed to be done in order to get what he wanted. The thought sent a thrill through my body, immediately followed by a chill. Jareth only smiled mysteriously.

"I doubt my opinion means anything to them," he said quietly. I snorted, the second time I'd done such a thing in his presence and he looked shocked.

"I think that depends on the size of your wallet," I said, smiling coyly. To my surprise, he laughed fully. It was such a lovely sound, and I found myself mimicking his actions as I watched him. What an entrancing man! He smiled, holding back more laughter.

"They might have been mildly influenced," he said, scrunching up his nose in the most adorable way. I couldn't help but laugh.

"Well, I guess it's up to me to prove myself now!"

Honestly, who cares how I got the job, as long as I got it. Later I started to think about it again, and it only served to increase my apprehension about the position.

"I am sure that you are quite capable," he responded smoothly. I laughed again.

"You don't even know me!"

"Ah, but I have an eye for capability," he said, winking. What a shameless flirt!

"I bet you say that to all the girls," I said, smirking.

"No, just the ones who spill coffee on my beige suit. You have no idea how often that happens!"

Ah, good looking, rich, suave, and with a sense of humour. I was beginning to think this guy was too good to be true. The waiter came by and I asked for my bill. It was around this time that Jareth excused himself, I presumed to head to the washroom. He came back with his coat on one arm, and mine on the other.

"Shall we?"

"Oh, but my bill," I replied lamely, glancing around for the waiter.

"I took care of it," Jareth answered with a smile on his face. My face dropped. How had my personal evening of joy finished with a man I barely knew picking up my tab at the most expensive restaurant in town?

"I can't let you do that," I said, scrounging through my purse.

"What's done is done," he said, handing me my coat. There it was again, that _something_ that I was _almost_ remembering. I paused, staring at the inside of my purse. No way in hell I was going home with this guy, no matter how handsome, rich and funny he was. Living on my own had taught me way too much about self-preservation.

"Um, well, thank you then. But, you really didn't have to do that," I said, sliding my arms into my coat.

"I know."

We walked outside together. "Were you with someone?" I asked, glancing around.

"I was, but she has long since gone home," he replied, winking.

I clucked my tongue at him. "Shame on you. Unfortunately for you, I don't take an interest in players."

"Oh, Sarah, you wound me!" he exclaimed in false pain, his hand over his heart. "She was a work colleague, nothing more."

"Hmph," I replied, turning my back on him, looking for a cab.

"Oh, allow me, Miss Williams," he said, swiftly hailing a cab with ease. He opened the door for me, holding my hand as I stepped into the backseat.

"Thank you for the lovely, partial evening, Miss Williams," he offered smoothly, kissing the top of the hand he still held.

"I think I should be thanking you!" I replied, dryly. I smiled, however, in spite of myself.

"It was my pleasure." He gave me a sort of bow before letting go of my hand. "Good night, Sarah."

"Good night, Jareth."

He had closed the door of the cab and was watching as it started to pull from the cab when a surprised look came over his face, and he motioned for me to roll down my window. I did.

"Don't forget about our date!" he said running alongside the cab.

"I won't!" I called back, finally rolling up the window, and watching his silhouette grow smaller and smaller in the distance with a goofy grin on my face.


	3. The Trouble with Underground Media

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Labyrinth or any of the characters associated with the film. They are the property of the Jim Henson Company.

**AN: Hmm, could this be a post sooner than a week apart? What could this mean? Is it possible that I have…(dare I say it?)...FINISHED THE STORY? Yes, it's true. I finished it. I am in the process of mutilating the last chapter until it is to my liking, but I have plenty of time to do so. I will henceforth post a chapter a day for your reading pleasure. :D Enjoy, my darlings. **

The first day of work was a very frightening experience for me. First off, the firm that I was hired by is huge. All the big ticket advertising projects came through this firm, at least in part. Oh, I guess I haven't told you the name of the firm that I worked for, but in retrospect, that point is not that important. What are important are the names of the companies on either side of this firm. On the left, there is a security company called Orion Security and on the right, there is an insurance brokerage called Harmony & Castor Inc. I am certainly not going to indulge upon their importance as of yet, that will come in good time. So, back to my first day.

As far as first days go, it was fairly typical. A tour of the facility, meeting the people whose work is directly related to mine, and finally meeting with the big bosses to discuss the current projects of the firm. That meeting was interesting, to say the least. I was taken into a boardroom with a few members of the board (who would have thought?). As I sat there, with three old men staring at me, I was far more terrified than I'd ever been. As an example, when I was twenty-two years old I was attacked by an armed man – I think that I was more terrified in this boardroom than I had been then.

"Miss Williams, your portfolio is very impressive for an individual with such limited experience," one of the men started. His name was Bradford Stevens, and I think he was about ninety years old.

"Thank you," I replied meekly. Honestly, I thought he was a ninety-year-old warlock that was going to swallow my life essence so that he could live forever.

"Yes," another man started. "You appear to have quite the imagination." This man's name was Edward Burrows, and I believe he must have been no younger than seventy years old.

"I believe you'll fit in quite well, here, Sarah." This final statement came from William Jones, the CEO and youngest of the three, sitting at fifty-nine years old. He was a master of wayward thinking and free expression, which is odd to find in a man of his age. Mr. Burrows nodded in agreement with Mr. Jones, but Mr. Stevens snorted loudly. William's permanent smile faltered ever so slightly, but it remained plastered across his face while Edward looked down at his hands. What on Earth was going on? Had I lost my job already?

"It is in the best interest of this firm if you could please tell us your relationship with Mr. Jareth Knightly," William said smoothly, with that kind of sly precision that businessmen use when trying to obtain information to which they had no legal right. At that point my relationship with Jareth was quite negligible, and in my mind, irrelevant. I looked at each of their faces before answering.

"I, um, ran into him as I was leaving my interview here," I shrugged. "I imagine you all met with him that day, and so you may recall a coffee stain on his suit. Well, that was courtesy of me."

I had just virtually committed public relations suicide, but I was not about to lose my job or, more importantly, _keep_ my job because these three nosy men thought that I was sleeping with the client. All three board members blinked at me in succession. Mr. Jones looked thoroughly confused and I silently cursed the beautiful stranger for sticking his nose in my business, even if it had gotten me my dream job.

"So, you don't have a…close…relationship with him?" he asked, carefully.

"No, we were perfect strangers a week ago."

"Are you still strangers?"

My God, these men were nosy! I bit back a smart reply.

"Well, I guess I would have to say we're distant acquaintances, if even that," noting their blank looks, I continued. "I ran into him, although this time not literally, at a restaurant."

The men nodded, satisfied.

"That's good to hear, Miss Williams," Mr. Stevens croaked.

"Yes, quite," William agreed, shuffling his papers and handing me a folder. "We would hate for you to start out with a conflict of interest on your first project."

I stared at the folder, slowly comprehending the name scrawled across the label: 'Underground Media; Contact: Jareth Knightly.'

"If you'll flip the folder open, Miss Williams, we'll go over the deliverables of this project."

I did so, mindlessly, silently wondering if Jareth had set this up as well. I doubted it, but then again my life had changed quite dramatically in the short time that I'd known the man.

The first sentence I read really laid it out for me: 'Underground Media specializes in the publication and broadcast of articles, stories, television programs, and movies of the fantasy genre.' Most of the projects I had done as coursework were deeply routed in the fantastic. Let's just say it's that repressed part of my brain, that inkling of my youth, coming through.

"In truth, Miss Williams, we hadn't been looking for someone with your particular talents until we met with Mr. Knightly," William said. "Then, I suppose you can say the rest is history."

The businessman smiled warmly now, and I decided it would be in my best interest not to ask about exactly what Jareth had said about me.

"Give that file a look through, and if you have any questions I am certain that Roger can assist you," Mr. Jones said, standing up. "I don't think I have to impress upon you the importance of this project both to the firm and to your future with the company."

It was funny the way corporate businessmen had this method of sliding in threats with a smile on their face. Actually, it was kind of creepy.

Roger Morton, a nervous, middle-aged man constantly looking over his shoulder for a pink slip and forever wary of new blood. Now, Roger was my immediate supervisor. I think the fact that I wasn't a twenty-three year old with Masters Degree sneaking in to steal his supervisory position weighed carefully into his opinion of me. We got along well from the very beginning, and he was always a constant source of help when I needed it. And trust me; after I read through the folder, I needed it.

"Roger," I said breathlessly, after running to his office hoping to catch him before he left for the day.

"Sarah?" he replied, turning around.

"There's a meeting with Mr. Knightly tomorrow?" I asked, surprised.

"Well, yes, of course," he replied, looking mildly confused as to why I was asking.

"And?"

"What do you want to know, Sarah?"

"Am I supposed to have prototypes by then?"

"Well, considering that your first day was today, I would like to say 'no'. But given that Mr. Knightly was promised sketches and some ideas by tomorrow, it might be wise to have something."

I'm pretty sure my mouth fell open right then and there. It wasn't fair! I had only started that day, and I had been forced to waste most of the day with inane meetings and a pointless tour. I was barely acquainted with my surroundings and I was expected to have ideas for a project I had learned about an hour before my day ended by TOMORROW MORNING? Outrageous! I had to take a deep breath and a step back. This is what I wanted. I knew that I would be expected to prove myself before they would really accept me, especially in this firm.

"Okay," I said. "I'll see what I can do."

My God, that was one long night. As soon as I got home, I flicked on my computer and threw on some Kraft Dinner. Who would have thought that I had gotten my dream job and still had to resort back to Kraft Dinner? I think that I was up well into the morning researching the company's focuses and sketching. I had about a dozen sketches prepared. I wasn't happy with any of them. It was about five in the morning and I was half delirious with the lack of sleep when it came to me. I just started sketching madly. I don't know how long it took me to draw, but it was exactly what I had been aiming for. Now, whether it was what Jareth was looking for or not was another issue altogether. One of my professors once told us to never become attached to a particular piece of work because there is a slim chance that the client will see in it what you see. I tried to detach myself from the sketch, but I found it difficult. In fact, looking at it gave me the same sense of vague familiarity that Jareth did.

The meeting was at eleven, which gave me plenty of time to have the sketches printed on poster board for the meeting. I only had thirteen sketches to offer, which were pretty slim pickings. I sighed and went to have a shower, what else could I do? I would have been more excited to see Jareth again if it weren't for my tremendous tiredness. As soon as I was dressed, I was off to have those sketches blown up and printed. I came, flailing, into the office at nine-thirty. Roger poked his head out of his office to glare at me. His mouth was open to berate me for being late on my second day, but promptly closed it once he saw the poster boards.

"I'm sorry, Roger, I am!" I said, whipping past him into his office. "I've been up all night, and I only have thirteen sketches, and I am so sorry!"

Roger closed his office door and followed me inside. I set the poster board on the easel, which appeared to be a permanent fixture in the room. Then, I let out a long sigh.

"I had to rush out and get them put on poster board, I'm sorry I'm late," I gushed on.

"Sarah, we have a printing facility here," he said slowly.

"Oh."

Roger laughed. "It's good to see that you're enthusiastic," he said, walking to the easel deliberately. "Thirteen," he let out a low whistle. "Wow."

"What? Not enough? I know, I know," I sighed, collapsing into a chair.

"No, no. Usually we have several meetings before we settle upon a design to show the client. I'm aware we don't have that option in this case. I had been planning to just make excuses for you," Roger explained.

He flipped through the boards, his eyes skimming over the sketches. "These are all really good, Sarah."

I have to say I felt a little better, although the lack of sleep was still clouding my thought. He paused on the final sketch that I had just made, and I smiled inwardly.

"Hmm, I don't know about this one."

I frowned inwardly. _Don't get attached, Sarah!_ "Well, we don't know how Mr. Knightly will find it," I replied.

Roger turned back to me and smiled, "Too true, my dear. You've caught on already! I am of the belief that we should show the clients every piece produced. Unfortunately, the company doesn't share that belief."

I think I started to fall asleep in the chair and Roger let me sleep for a little while. He gently shook me awake at quarter to eleven, telling me to gather up my sketches and head to the boardroom. I complied, sleepily. Once the sketches were set up in the room, I popped into the washroom to freshen up a bit; after all, I was going to be seeing Jareth in a few minutes. As I walked out into the hall I heard voices in the boardroom – I recognized two of them instantly. One belonged to Roger, while the other belonged distinctly to Jareth Knightly. I took a deep breath before walking into the room.

"Ah, Sarah!" Roger exclaimed, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "I'd like to introduce you to Jareth Knightly."

"We've met," Jareth interjected lightly with that all too familiar smirk on his face.

"Oh," Roger said, looking from me to him again. "Well, then I guess there's no need to introduce you two. I trust, however, that both of you have not met Lucie."

Roger walked us both over to a young woman with a smug expression, exactly the kind of creature that Roger feared.

"Lucie has been placed in charge of all slogans and phrases for this project. She is a literary genius," his tone was enthusiastic, but I could tell that he harboured resentment towards the girl.

Lucie promptly stuck her hand out to shake Jareth's, completely ignoring me. I rolled my eyes at Roger who gave me a warning glance. What was with me? It was my second day! Anyway, we all decided to sit down and start the meeting. Roger was the ultimate project lead in this case, so he led the meeting. Roger formally introduced Lucie in the meeting, and she stood before us with a confidence of which I was envious. Her slogans ranged from quick and catchy to mystical and entrancing. Indeed, her confidence was not false.

Next, it was my turn. I was truly exhausted, and this was a very nerve-wracking experience for me. I was even more nervous knowing that a pair of intense eyes was watching me; it made me feel a sort of defiance, as though I had to prove myself to him. I shakily took the floor, introducing sketch after sketch. Jareth's face betrayed nothing, but I pushed on. Finally I reached my last sketch, and smiled slightly. I couldn't shake my attachment to this particular sketch. Jareth was silent for a good while, his eyes skimming over the sketches that were currently displayed.

"I really like the thirteenth sketch," he said, at length. I couldn't stop the smile that spread across my face. Dangerous and suspiciously charming as he was, I knew I liked him for a reason. "Can you explain your inspiration for it?"

My eyebrows shot up. Explain it – that was something I hadn't considered, I had just sketched it because it was there in my mind when I thought of Jareth. "Well, clearly it's a gate," I started lamely.

"To what?" Jareth interrupted.

I paused and stared at him. I was starting to panic, so I cleared my mind and allowed the original image to come to me.

"To a labyrinth – huge and expansive. Many different majestic creatures live within its confines, and at the very centre there is a castle. The castle is inhabited by a King, cold and bored. He has everything, but he still wants more. The gate represents the promise of things to come – the promise that something new will enter that king's life and reawaken him."

I stopped. Where had that come from? It felt familiar, like a story I knew well from long ago. A little red book came to mind. I recalled it vaguely, a play written about a cruel king stealing a baby. The details were fuzzy. I looked at Jareth only to observe his puzzled expression, as though he, too, had recalled the story. Then, he smiled nostalgically while nodding.

"Yes, I want to build the graphics around that little world of yours, Miss Williams," he said smoothly. I smiled goofily.

The meeting ended jovially, and we all took turns shaking hands with Jareth. As he shook my hand, he placed his other hand on my shoulder and leaned into my whisper into my ear.

"See? I knew you were capable."


	4. The Trouble with Lunch Meetings

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Labyrinth or any of the characters associated with the film. They are the property of the Jim Henson Company.

**AN: Mmm. Re-reading this for editing was fun. I liked their early interactions so much. ;) Thanks to everyone who has been reviewing. It's nice to hear what you think of the story. Now, today you're getting a long chapter because if I were to break it up, it would two very short chapters. Anyway, enough yammering! Enjoy!!**

When he let me go, I stared after him dreamily but not without catching a glimpse of the jealously enraged Lucie. I shrugged my shoulders helplessly at her. She fled, turning on her heel. Roger congratulated me, once again reiterating his feelings about showing the client all of your work. I replied by asking if I could leave early today. Yes, it was my second day, but man was I tired.

Roger laughed at me and slapped me on the back as though I had just told him the best joke he'd ever heard. I grudgingly made my way back to my little cubicle only to find the voicemail light on my phone blinking at me furiously. I sunk into my chair wearily and picked up the receiver. 'You have one new voicemail'.

"Miss Williams, I was hoping that I might catch you in your office. I was wondering, if you receive this message in due time, if you would be interested in joining me for a discussion of your sketch over lunch. Please feel free to call me at this number."

Jareth Knightly. I should have known. He had left a number which read out suspiciously like a cell phone number. I dialled the number immediately. If I were to have the sketches he wanted ready by our next meeting, it would certainly be useful to know exactly what he wanted. The phone rang…and rang. Finally, the connection clicked through.

"Knightly," the answer was sharp and cold.

"Mr. Knightly, it's Sarah Williams."

"Miss Williams," his tone had changed considerably – it had become warmer and looser, somehow.

"Yes, well, if you are still in the area, I would love to discuss the sketch," I gushed. I was _so _tired; I really had no control over my words.

"Over lunch?" His voice came through more as a clarification than anything else.

"Yes."

"I am outside the building. Shall I meet you in the lobby?"

"Sure. Should I bring the sketch?"

"That won't be necessary. It is forever ingrained in my memory."

I smiled and was glad that he couldn't see it.

"Alright then, I'll be down momentarily," I finished.

"I shall be waiting."

I hurriedly gathered up my coat and rushed down to the lobby, silently thanking Roger for not granting my request to go home early. The elevator descended at what seemed like a snail's pace, and I impatiently pushed past the doors when I reached the ground floor. Jareth was leaning against one of the marble pillars in the lobby looking effortlessly sophisticated. His lips curled upwards slightly into the mockery of a smile when he saw me. He had this way of looking at me that made me certain that he saw no one else in the room. In all honesty, it made me feel self-conscious.

Jareth slid into an upright position with apparent easiness, offering me his arm. I merely glanced at it and walked beside him. He frowned a bit and dropped his arm to his side, peering at me curiously. I didn't look at him. The last thing I needed was to lose this job because of a receptionist's gossip. I was going to keep this relationship professional, if only to keep the job I had only dreamed of getting. Jareth indicated that he knew a small café where we could dine just up the street. It was quaint albeit more expensive than I would have chosen, however Mr. Knightly called the meeting and business protocol says that Mr. Knightly foots the tab. It worked for me. We sat at a corner table in the back of the room. I waited until we had ordered our food before bringing up the sketch. I pulled out a pad and pen from my purse and prepared to take notes. When I looked up I found that Jareth was watching me with a rather peculiar smile and a raised eyebrow. I narrowed my eyes at him and tried to remain professional. There was something in the look he was giving me that made me want to stand up to him – I couldn't place it, so I tried to swallow it.

"Mr. Knightly," I started, only to be interrupted by him.

"Please call me Jareth," he smoothly interjected.

"I prefer to maintain a level of professionalism, Mr. Knightly," I replied curtly. There was something in his tone and manner, something familiar that riled me inexplicably. Jareth raised his eyebrows but said nothing. His face became rather mask-like and stony. So, this was the businessman, Mr. Knightly, not Jareth now.

"What exactly would you like me to focus on for the campaign? More architectural ideas, creatures, the story itself?" I spun my pen in the air as I talked, trying to forget who it was that I was talking to.

"Quite frankly, Miss Williams," he started, cocking his head to one side, "I would be interested to see _anything_ you could develop for the campaign. The overall plan is to produce a number of magazine ads, the exact number of which is yet to be determined, and to eventually branch into television spots for the magazine. The main focus, as you are well aware, is to push the magazine."

"Yes," I mumbled, jotting down some notes. I glanced up at him. If he didn't have specific questions or directions, then why were we here?

"Your imagination is quite vivid, Miss Williams. I should like to see something from all aspects of the story you spun today. Our readers are clearly fascinated by fantasy worlds and creatures, but our hope is to draw in more readers. The best way to do this is with a captivating ad campaign. I have a feeling that the story you told today, based on that one sketch, may capture the hearts of even persons not normally interested in the fantastic."

I nodded dumbly. What on earth was I thinking, flirting with this man? His brain operates on a whole other level. His world spins in a whole other direction. I started to panic again, as I glanced around at my surroundings. I didn't belong here in this swanky café with this beautiful, rich man. This wasn't what I was made for – or was it, and I was just fighting it? It is amazing, the ways in which I talk myself out of panic attacks. I always faced the situation by focusing on one key aspect and then defying it until the world is clear again. I sat up straight and stared at Jareth, who was watching me with mild concern.

"Mr. Knightly, about our date," I started. Jareth raised an eyebrow and leaned forward on his elbows.

"Yes?"

"Well, I don't think that it's such a good idea," I said slowly. My heart was racing. I was giving up the chance of a lifetime. Half of me was screaming for my mouth to stop moving, while the other half was relieved that I was escaping this man.

"And why is that Miss Williams?" He was mocking me by using my title, trying to goad me into telling him to call me 'Sarah'. When discussing our date it seemed completely ridiculous for him to call me 'Miss Williams', but at the same time I hardly knew him.

"Well, let's just say certain board members of the firm took an interest in my social life, particularly surrounding you," I replied dryly. Jareth leaned back in his chair and smirked in a genuinely amused manner.

"Aha, I see your dilemma, however I am loathed to point out that we made our agreement before you were employed by the firm," he replied, smiling slyly. I sighed lightly. He was right, but it was still very stressful. I may have been able to see it his way, but he had to see it my way, too. If I lost my job, what was I supposed to do? Rely on him? I think not. I fidgeted uncomfortably in my chair. Jareth leaned forward again and I looked up at the mention of my name, spoken without my permission.

"Sarah, it's only a date," he said, laughing. "Besides, it's none of their business what you do with your social life."

"I think they're rather concerned with the account more than my affairs," I replied nervously.

"Sarah." The tone of his voice was so familiar, as though he were trying to convince me with one word. The way he said my name captivated me, I hadn't even noticed that the waiter had come and gone. "You have nothing to fear. We can keep it a secret, if you'd like."

His tone was so playful, but I was terrified. This might well be a game for him, and then where does that leave me? He tilted his head and tried another tactic.

"Think of my poor ruined suit, Sarah."

My shoulders slumped and I could feel his triumph emanate through the air.

"Fine," I muttered. "For the suit."

Jareth laughed and I cracked a tiny smile.

"I will pick you up at six thirty on Friday. I think a night of dinner and dancing is in order."

"Six thirty? That's a little early. What should I wear?"

"Dinner and dancing, Sarah. What time do you eat normally?" he exclaimed. I laughed easily. "And, what do you wear when you dance, Miss Williams?"

"Depends on the dinner and depends on the type of dancing, Jareth."

He smirked when I used his name for the first time. It rolled off my tongue so easily and so accidentally. I hadn't intended to use it just yet; it must have been the lack of sleep that had loosened my tongue.

"Something on par with that black dress of yours, I imagine," he offered, finally.

He must have seen my worried expression. I only owned that one dress. Well, at least, it was the only one of its calibre that I owned.

"Actually," he added smoothly, smiling gently. "That black dress will be just fine."

We parted ways at the entrance of the firm, and I returned to my cubical to work on more sketches. I was sleepy, but I often do my best work then.

The rest of the week flew by in a flurry of activity. Everyday I started early, never to be late again, for Roger's eye was constantly on me. I would go to my desk, start my computer and sketch all day long, sometimes skipping lunch. I focused on characters and magical creatures in the Labyrinth. I even came up with names for them: a dwarf named Hoggle; a little fox knight named Sir Didymus; a large beast, who looks fierce but has a kind a heart, named Ludo. I don't know where these beings came from, but they burst forth from me with such a wave of nostalgia, by the end of the week I was convinced that they were old friends.

The most important sketch that I was working on was that of the mysterious Goblin King. I had decided that he had to be the king of something unpleasant; and so, he had to have that level of isolated loneliness which makes him compelling to the observer. Back to the point, I couldn't get him right. Whenever I sketched him, he was always half-hidden in the shadows. The real problem was that when I tried to sketch him in the light, he always ended up looking like Jareth Knightly with wild hair and glam eye makeup. I gave up on trying to sketch him full on; he was always in the distance or the shadows. It was safer that way. It wasn't as though I could show that sketch to Mr. Knightly – it was far too obvious, and I was doing a bang up job of being obvious without the help of my sketches.

The next step was an observer. Who was seeing all these fantastic things? Who was journeying through the Labyrinth? It couldn't be the King, he owns it all and finds no pleasure in any of it. This had to be done through the eyes of someone new and fresh to the world, someone pure. The more I sketched, the more I wanted to find the book that was resting in the back of my mind. Each night I searched for it endlessly to no avail, I began to wonder if I had sold it in a garage sale. I don't doubt it entirely, money had been tight more than once in the past, but it seemed like something that I wouldn't want to be rid of. Anyway, the observer; I decided that it must be a girl, and she must be compelled to reach the center of the Labyrinth. Was she in love with the king? Maybe, but she wasn't brave enough to face the trials of the Labyrinth for him – he frightened her; her feelings frightened her. No, she had to be coerced into entering his world of her own free will. I decided that he had taken something from her, and as I was so close to my brother, I decided that the king had stolen her baby brother.

I was quite satisfied with the little world I had created, and I was very excited that it would be given life through the advertisement campaign. I really wanted to share my ideas with Jareth, but our next meeting would not be until the Monday after next. Maybe I could slip it in at our date. Oh, the date. The idea of being on a date with a man like Jareth made me both very excited and quite apprehensive. He really was from a different world. I was certain that I would make a fool of myself and he would quickly realize his mistake. Sure, I could clean up really well, but…

I was finished my workday around five, but I snuck out early on Friday. How could I not? Jareth hadn't given me much time to get ready for our date, so work had to suffer. Besides, I think I had impressed Roger with the number of sketches that I had produced. I really, really didn't want to wear the black dress again. Jareth had already seen it. But, money was tight and so was time; I had no choice.

I was just out of the shower and halfway through makeup application when there was a knock at the door. I frowned, panicking slightly at the thought that I had misjudged time. I ran to the nearest clock and stared at the bright red digital numbers glaring me in the face: 5:35pm. Just under an hour. Who on earth could it be at 5:35pm on a Friday? I answered the door in my housecoat with my hair up in a towel, I think I may have frightened the man at the door. It was a delivery man. I blinked at him.

"Sarah Williams?" he asked, glancing at his clipboard.

"Yes," I replied, clutching the door nervously.

"Please sign here," he said, handing me the clipboard. I signed on the line, confused.

"What is it?" I asked, glancing at the long, large package. The delivery man shrugged and handed it off on me before disappearing down the steps. I watched him leave and then brought the package to the couch. It wasn't particularly heavy; too wide to be flowers and too large to be anything I could think of. I pulled the packing paper off the box to find an envelope taped to the top of the box. My name was neatly written across the front of the envelope in crisp cursive. I opened the envelope eagerly, my heart in my throat. It read as follows:

_Sarah,_

_Although I am full aware that you are a modern woman and may not accept this, I am also aware that your first paycheque will not reach your hands for at least another week. I have absolutely no desire to dine with you if you will be preoccupied with the fact that I have seen your black dress before (which I know you will be should you wear that particular garment), so I have taken the liberty of sending this gift to you. I sincerely hope to find that you wear it tonight for reasons previously stated. Please think of my need for your complete attention tonight, as well as the suit. If all else fails, think of the suit._

_Jareth_

I read through the note a few more times and then stared at the box. He had sent me a dress? I was completely torn. Did he send it because the black gown wasn't acceptable? Or, truly because he already knew me so well as to know that I would be preoccupied with such a petty detail? I chose to believe the latter as it was what was written and I had no reason not to trust his word. I didn't believe that he would lie to me. I opened the box slowly, savouring the increase in my heart beat with the steady accumulation of adrenaline in my body. I pulled back the tissue paper carefully, a lump forming in my throat.

The gown was a deep red, a perfect contrast to the green in my eyes. The bodice was boned and tied at the back with a thick ribbon. It was almost strapless if not for the tiny gauze capped sleeves. The calf-length skirt had an uneven hem which made it fall oh-so-perfectly. As I held it up, I could see the skirt flowing delicately as we danced. I smiled softly. It was everything that I could have wanted in a dress. The dress was overlaid with a thin gauzy material giving it a rather dreamy effect. I tried it on immediately and found that it fit like a glove. How had he known my size? Some questions are better left unanswered. He had also sent a pair of flat shoes in the same colour as the dress. They reminded me of dancing slippers of the renaissance era. Jareth really knew how to make a girl feel like a princess; secretly I wondered if he were the prince of some small European country. Oh, that imagination of mine. I decided to leave my hair down in loose waves, clipping back small front sections of hair to keep them from my face. I had a feeling that this was going to be some date.


	5. The Trouble with Small Talk

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Labyrinth or any of the characters associated with the film. They are the property of the Jim Henson Company.

**AN: I hope you guys won't kill me, but I broke the first date into two chapters. It was the only way I could do it without having an absurdly long chapter. Besides…it's more fun if I draw it out…BWA HAHAHA! Happy Mommies Day to all the mommies out there! **

It was six thirty sharp when the shrill ring of the doorbell shocked me out of my last minute makeup touches. I ran to the door, took a second to compose myself, and opened it with a prefabricated smile. However, as soon as I saw Jareth, my smile widened into a genuine grin. My God, he was handsome. His textured hair was effortlessly unruly, his signature smirk was across his face, and he had topped the effect off with a very sleek black suit. There was something careless in his style, and it suited him so very well. I had to bite my bottom lip to keep it from falling open. Honestly, how was I this lucky? Why did such a man want a date with me? I had to remind myself of the suit. _Think of the suit, Sarah_. I would have never thought that causing someone to ruin their suit would bring me so much happiness. He had a bundle of flowers in his arms, which he passed to me with lazy grace, smirking uncontrollably. I smirked myself as I accepted them. I peered over the cellophane. There were a dozen long stem roses, how classic! However, the roses were not a signature red or yellow, the roses were grey. I wrinkled my nose before asking.

"Grey?"

Jareth's smirk widened into a deliciously mischievous grin, "I felt it was best if we kept a level of professionalism in our relationship."

I laughed; the bloody devil! "Clever, clever. I'm just going to pop the flowers into a vase, is that alright?"

"Actually, we are on a bit of a time constraint here, Sarah," Jareth said, suddenly serious. The way he said my name, the way the 'r' of my name rolled off his tongue; it was tantalizing.

"Oh, okay. Um, I'll just pop them in the fridge then," I said hurriedly. There was a sense of urgency in his voice that I just couldn't ignore. I ran to my fridge, gently placed my grey roses inside, and jogged back to him as quickly as my feet could carry me. Jareth offered his arm to me, which I gratefully accepted.

"Your chariot waits," he said playfully. I finally looked away from him to see a black stretch limo waiting on the street. I looked back at him with questioning eyes.

"You do realize that this is our first date," I said slowly. Jareth merely raised questioning eyebrows. "Well, aren't you setting the bar rather high?"

Jareth laughed lightly. "My dear, this is just the beginning."

Jareth helped me into the limo, seating himself across from me. I glanced out the window nervously, watching my little townhouse disappear into the distance. Where were we going? What the hell was I doing? Why the hell did he want anything to do with me, of all people?

"So," I started; the nervousness evident in my shaky voice. "Where are we going?"

Jareth merely smirked in that infuriatingly handsome way, "It's a surprise."

"Oh." My God, I had this tendency to be struck speechless by the simplest of sentences coming from him! I continued watching the world rush by through the window. I was so aware of his eyes on me and it made me even more nervous. I was sitting there in the dress that he picked out for me. I suddenly felt ridiculous. As if on cue, he started to talk about the dress.

"The gown looks lovely on you," he remarked, tilting his head as he said it. My cheeks flamed in embarrassment.

"Thank you," I mumbled, still refusing to look at him.

"Sarah," he said in a tone that commanded my attention. How did he do that? My eyes shot up to his face, expecting him to be angry but finding him mildly amused instead. He gave me a questioning look, almost as one would give a child who was behaving foolishly. I was even more embarrassed as I realized that _I was_ behaving like a foolish child.

"I'm sorry," I started. "I'm…"

"Overwhelmed?"

I glared at him for interrupting. I didn't realize it at the time, but he was forcing me to be courageous.

"Nervous."

Jareth chuckled and seemed to snuggle into his seat more, as though settling in for a long drive. I was still sitting perfectly upright and completely tense. I felt at a definite disadvantage, and strangely the feeling was rather familiar. I imagined that the girl of my little image story would have felt this way in the presence of the Goblin King. I suddenly decided to start the topic of conversation on one of the very few things that I knew we had in common – the sketches.

"So, I have been working on the sketches all week. I am sure you will be pleased with at least some of the results," I blurted out rapidly. Jareth waited politely for me to finish before speaking.

"We won't talk about that tonight."

"We won't?"

"No. This is a _date_, Sarah. Not a business meeting."

I frowned and looked out the window again, rather frustrated. I turned back to him.

"What are we going to talk about then? We don't have anything in common!"

Jareth gave me the tiniest grin. "You don't know that yet. That is exactly what we're going to talk about tonight."

My mouth went into that irritating 'O' again. Jareth smirked. I bit my lip in nervous frustration.

"Fine, I'll go first," I said, crossing my arms like a petulant child. "Jareth, what's your favourite colour?"

Jareth let out an incredibly appealing silky sort of laugh and thought for a moment. "I'm actually quite partial to shades as opposed to colours."

I frowned at him.

"Maybe you should guess," he suggested, grinning viciously.

My frown deepened. "I hope it's not beige," I said.

Jareth sat upright, laughing fully. "No, not beige. But, I do have this strange attraction to grey. The type of grey you would find in the feathers of a mourning dove."

I nodded thoughtfully. That seemed to make sense somehow.

"Now, how about you, Sarah? What's your favourite colour?"

I smiled slightly. "Well, I'd say you did well with the dress."

Jareth smiled knowingly and I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Are you stalking me?" I asked cautiously. After all, he knew my dress size, shoe size, and my favourite colour and we'd met, what, three times before?

Jareth's smile widened and he leaned forward, cupping my hand with his. I should have pulled away in my state of caution, but I was so enthralled by his closeness. At this distance, I could see clearly that both his eyes were a deep blue colour. His skin was flawless porcelain, almost unreal and his hair was like fine spun white gold. He smelled like something that I simply couldn't describe. It was familiar and earthy, and it reminded me of ancient ruins somehow. The labyrinth that I had been sketching flashed briefly in my mind, but it wasn't in 2D; it was alive.

"No, Sarah," he whispered, leaning in to kiss my hand although his eyes never left mine. "I'm just that good."

The way he said it sent chills down my spine and it was all I could do not to lean in and kiss him madly right then. But, I reminded myself that this wasn't real, and that self-preservation was key.

"What's with your pupil?" I asked quickly, purposefully killing the moment. Jareth smiled and leaned back into his seat, dragging his fingers along the top of my hand as he went, prolonging the chill he'd given me.

"It's embarrassing," he replied somewhat sheepishly. A genuine, wide smile stretched across my face and it felt so good. Every muscle in my face was overjoyed to be relieved from the frowns.

"Oh, tell me," I said excitedly.

Jareth looked at me and his small smile widened. I suddenly felt self-conscious again, and broke eye contact. Luckily, my self-esteem issues could not kill the smile on my lips.

"In high school," he started. I looked up, enthralled and excited. "I…" He paused, and looked away from me. It was fascinating to see such a controlled man at a loss for words. He looked back at me, once again with a sheepish expression.

"Essentially I stole my best friend's girlfriend from him."

My mouth fell open in highly amused surprise and I laughed, hard.

"And, what? He punched you in the face?" I said, in between laughs.

"Yes," he replied quietly.

He waited until I was done laughing before speaking again. I realized that he was watching me with that wild intensity of his and I knew that his next question wouldn't be light.

"Why are you so self-conscious, Sarah?" he asked. For some reason, at that particular point I believed that I could tell him anything.

"I have poor taste in men," I said plainly, shrugging slightly.

"Not true, you're out with me," he said, winking.

"Ah, but that's because you have excellent taste in women," I replied, winking in turn. He laughed.

"I tend to fall for people in authority, people above me," I continued. It was the truth, laid bare. I had a thing for men with power.

"No one is above you," he said clearly. I looked up at his face and smiled slightly.

"If only that were true!"  
"It is. Each person commands their own kingdom. Yours is as great as mine," he said matter-of-factly. I thought about it for a moment. That was a very true statement. I had let those men treat me badly, and at the same time I had never really let them past the gates.

"Maybe you're right," I said. Jareth raised his eyebrows as though indicating that he knew he was right. "So, I guess you better watch out then."

"What?"

"I'm empowered, I could devour you whole tonight," I said, winking suggestively. Oh, the gall! I couldn't believe that those words had just come from _my _mouth. Jareth smiled widely, and something dangerous sparkled in those obscure eyes.

"I'm always up for a challenge."

I finally looked away with him, unable to completely let go of years of non-existent self-esteem. I noticed through the window that we were no longer in the city. A tiny wave of panic flashed through me. Where were we going? I looked back to Jareth and asked him just that.

"Where are we going?" I tried to hide that annoying inkling of fear from my voice. Jareth glanced out the window, his expression unreadable.

"It's a surprise."

I looked out the window once more. I think he may have seen my worried expression reflected against the glass.

"You'll like it. I promise."

I turned back to him and gave him a small smile, secretly hoping he wasn't going to murder me and leave me in a ditch. Surely, anyone would know that I wouldn't like that. The limo turned sharply and I was jostled from my reverie.

"We're almost there," Jareth said smoothly. I looked out the window now and noted that I could see the ocean so clearly on this road. Curiosity was now starting to outweigh cautiousness. We drove for a few more minutes in silence, my face pressed to the glass as I observed the beauty of the rough ocean at night.

"Sarah," Jareth said suddenly. "Close your eyes."

I looked at Jareth and saw that he held a silk scarf. I couldn't help recoiling in suspicion. Jareth just gave me that look that he had given me earlier. Foolish child.

"Sarah, you have nothing to fear from me. I have no power over you, plus if you see too soon it will ruin the surprise," he said before stopping.

We both frowned because the words rang true. For some reason I was certain that he had no power over me. I suddenly felt as though I could let him do anything to me, lead me anywhere because I _knew_ that he wouldn't harm me – he _couldn't_. My sense of logic screamed at this, but my intuition won out in the end. I conceded and he covered my eyes with the scarf. As soon as my sense of sight was lost to me, all other senses became heightened. I inhaled sharply as his hand brushed lightly against my cheek as he pulled back. I didn't need to see him – I knew that he was deeply amused. That smell became more prominent, and I felt as though I was walking through my living labyrinth. I wished I knew what was so familiar about Jareth. I could hear the waves crashing against the distant shoreline and the crunch of gravel under the tires of the limo as it turned onto a new roadway. Finally, we stopped.


	6. The Trouble with First Dates

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Labyrinth or any of the characters associated with the film. They are the property of the Jim Henson Company.

_**AN: Well, it's 1:45am here, so technically I can post a chapter. I am sitting up right now, waiting for the gravol to kick in…is it the flu? Is it food poisoning? Or, simply indigestion? Tune in tomorrow for disgusting details! Haha. So, I'm not feeling **_**well**_** but I am feeling **_**generous****_…_ **

I heard Jareth get out of the limo, and I could hear him speaking in hushed tones. Unfortunately I couldn't make out what he was saying. My door was opened, I could tell both by sound and the cool, salty breeze which blew against my cheek. Jareth sought out my hand and helped me from the limo. I could feel the crunching of the gravel beneath my feet as I allowed Jareth to lead me. We stopped after a long while of walking and I could feel him untying the blindfold at the back of my head. I blinked twice, my eyes readjusting and focussing on my surroundings.

First I recognized that there was a building to my right and the ocean to my left. The ocean caught my eye first, in its constantly moving state and when I turned my head to the left, I caught sight of meticulously manicured garden. It was a shame that all the trees were bare, but it was late autumn after all. The ocean stretched out, long and unending, beyond the perfect garden. It was beautiful in this raw way that I truly appreciate. Next, I turned back to the building, drinking in its unfamiliar appearance. I glanced around in the darkness and suddenly knew exactly where I was. I had wanted to visit this place since I'd moved to the city, but I'd never found the time with school and work on my plate. It was a genuine castle. Historical museum by day, obscenely expensive hall rental by night. I turned my face to Jareth, unable to hide the shock from it. I couldn't say anything to him, it was so perfect – it was almost too much. Jareth said nothing as well, he merely held out his hand watching me with his ever-present smirk. I accepted his hand as he led me around the castle, up the long stairway, and into the front hall of the castle.

I had seen pictures before, so the hall was vaguely familiar, but to see it in person was extraordinary. Dressed in my crimson dress, on the arm of my personal and seemingly dangerous Prince Charming, I felt like a princess. Jareth looked down at me, grinning at my delight as a genuine smile danced across my lips. He led me into the dining hall which had been set up with a table for two in romantic candlelight. We sat, and I glanced around nervously. He had done all this for me? It seemed a little too extravagant to simply be a ploy to get into my pants. Then again, he was a very rich man. I wasn't sure what to think.

"Wow," I whispered. I wanted to ask if this was all for me, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Jareth simply watched me with detached amusement while lifting a glass of white wine to his lips.

"It is beautiful," he agreed, his eyes still on me, "But so is my date."

I smiled shyly because there was no way I couldn't. He was so smooth. He knew exactly what to say, but not only that he knew exactly what I wanted. Jareth was amazing, and I was waiting for the dream to end. As they say, all good things come to an end. I decided then to ask him, straight up and quickly, before I woke up.

"This isn't real, right?" I said shakily. He regarded me with confusion and glanced around.

"I assure you it is. Would you like me to pinch you?" he smiled easily, and I mimicked the action because what else was there to do?

"No, I mean, when this is all done. When this date is over, you'll go back to being Mr. Knightly and me to Miss Williams, right?"

Jareth's eyes hardened in a small way, as though defensively, and I immediately regretted my question.

"Is that what you want?" he asked, his voice carefully cold. I stared at him, unable to believe that I had actually caused this change in his demeanour. I blinked at him twice and finally woke up.

_Of course, Sarah, of course he cares. If he didn't, would you be in eating in a _castle_? Would you be wearing a gown that you'll never be able to afford on your own? Would you be dining on lobster? Of course you wouldn't!_ My face fell with my realization. I was so concerned with my self-preservation that I had completely disregarded his feelings in the process. He had asked for nothing but the date, and I had done nothing but take from him. Why would a man give so much if he didn't care?

"No," I choked out finally, feeling quite ashamed. His face seemed to brighten, which was far more attractive than his hard eyes.

"Ah, well then, can we discuss more pleasant matters now?" he asked.

"Yes, of course," I said quickly, "I'm sorry."

He gave me that look again and I could feel myself pout a bit.

"Sarah," he started, setting down his wine glass, "If you could go anywhere in the world where would you go?"

I stared at my plate for a moment, contemplating the question. This was definitely a "getting-to-know-each-other" type situation and he had started with an interesting question. I looked up at him.

"I don't know if where I want to go really exists," his eyebrows shot up, obviously intrigued, "I would like to find the labyrinth that I have sketched."

A playful smile rested on my lips, "But, pending that I suppose I should like to traipse around the British Isles."

"That could be arranged."

"What about you?" I asked, as our lobster was rested in front of us.

Jareth started cracking a claw, contemplating his own answer. He stopped and gave me a rather meaningful look. "I should really like to find a place to call home. Naturally, I own several "homes", but what I really mean is a _home_."

This made a tremendous amount of sense to me. Nothing had felt like home since Toby and I had been forced to leave the house all those years ago. I also sought a home, but I hadn't really allowed myself to think about it. It somehow made me feel better to know that a man as well off as Jareth was looking for exactly the same thing as me. A question suddenly popped into my head as I watched him delicately remove the jewel that was lobster meat from the claw.

"What did you think of me when you first saw me?"

He fumbled for a second, almost flinging the claw off his plate and onto the floor. He looked up at me, pleasantly surprised by my question. I could see that careful control sweep back through him.

"I thought, quite simply, how on earth was I so fortunate as to run into an escapee fairy princess in broad daylight and on my way to a dull business meeting, even if she did just ruin my suit," he said, smirking again. "I also thought, how can I ensnare her into dining with me? As it turns out, my suit was a brilliant bargaining tool."

I laughed fully and bit my bottom lip again. I never really realized before then how much I actually did that. Jareth made me feel so special, and so alive. I honestly haven't been on a date with a man as charming as him before.

"Now," he said, a devilish grin gracing his face and looking like it belonged there, "Your turn."

"Well, first I thought, Oh My God, is that a designer suit?" he laughed, "And then I thought Oh My God, is this guy human?"  
I turned slightly red at this, but he was honest so I thought it was fair to be honest with him. He smiled at me, genuinely amused with my answer.

"You're quite charming, you know," I said, totally not aware that the words were flowing from my mouth.

"So are you, Princess," he whispered, raising his glass to me. I smiled softly, allowing the candlelight to work its magic. Our conversation ranged from our childhoods to our favourite books to movies, to Toby and even to my dog. As it turns out, Jareth was born and raised in England, only recently moving to the States to expand his personal investment: the magazine. He enjoys Alexander Dumas novels, his favourite being The Count Monte Cristo for its ingenious revenge methods. His favourite movie is the Eighties classic Legend, and he claims to identify most with the character Darkness. Of course, I had to laugh pretty hard at that.

"So, you identify with a creature of pure evil who looks shocking like the literary devil? I guess you would have an eye for innocence then," I smirked. He looked me up and down with an amused, rakish grin on his face.

"I believe I do, yes," he said slowly.

I snorted (again!) and was about to protest my lack of innocence when a string quartet began to play. I looked over in the direction of the sound; I hadn't even heard them come into the room. When I looked back, I found Jareth standing beside me with his hand outstretched.

"Care to dance?" he asked with his lazy grace. I stood up, reaching for his hand.

"Absolutely."

The music was hauntingly familiar. I couldn't place it, but it had a very dreamy quality to it. We started in a waltz, but somehow I ended up with my head resting against his chest. He was humming along to the music, so I had to ask.

"What is this music?"

Jareth stopped humming, and I immediately missed the vibration. It was comforting in some way.

"It's an original composition," he replied.

I pulled back to look at his face, "Oh? By whom?"

He looked down at me, his expression unreadable, "Me."

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. Jareth was just full of surprises. "You write music, too?"

He smiled easily. "Sometimes."

"I like it," I said, resting my head on his chest again.

"I knew you would," he replied simply.

"Does it have words?"  
"Mmhmm. But, I can't remember them."

"They're your words!" I exclaimed laughing.

"Yes, but I think your presence has made me forget them."

We danced for the rest of the song in silence, and carried on through several more dances without stopping. Eventually all structure disintegrated from our dance and we were like teenagers at a high school dance, swaying inanely with our arms wrapped around each other. Something felt so right, and again, so familiar about the situation. By this time, I was willing to take a risk with Jareth. Sure, there were plenty of possibilities for getting burned, but I think I might actually enjoy the scalding.

I don't know how long we swayed about, but it was even after the quartet had packed up. Actually, I think the castle employees began watching us at one point. At first I thought it was because they were annoyed to be there that late, but then I saw their faces and knew that they were watching us with contented little smiles. I, myself, developed a contented smile. This was so very, very right. Eventually, Jareth sighed deeply and proclaimed that it was quite late and if we didn't leave now, we'd miss our ride. An hour's distance by car was at least three times that by foot, so we called it a night. I was glad to have the hour-long drive. This time I sat snuggled into Jareth's shoulder, watching the ocean zoom by as the limo made its way back to civilization. I was sorry to see the city lights after such a magical evening.

When we finally reached my apartment building, I was loathed to leave Jareth's side. But, I was also very, very tired. Jareth walked me to my door, not looking tired at all. I looked up at him nervously. A good night kiss was in order, but it terrified me as I may just drag him into my apartment and lose all sense of self-preservation. Without thinking much, I stretched up on my tippy toes and kissed his cheek. He raised his eyebrows and glanced down at me.

"On the cheek, Sarah?"

I gave him a lopsided grin, "I felt it was best to keep a certain level of professionalism in our relationship."

Something both highly amused and sexily dangerous flashed through his features and without warning I found myself trapped tight in his embrace, with his soft lips against mine. The kiss deepened naturally and was a little intense for a good night kiss, but like everything else tonight – it felt so right. When we finally separated, I was a little breathless and the clear burn of desire was evident in Jareth's eyes. It was time to get inside before he kissed me again. I vowed that no matter how right this felt, I would take it slow. There was no way I was going to mess up with Jareth, and I would prolong this euphoria for as long as I could. I think I was the speed with which the kiss occurred that prevented it from happening, but my living labyrinth was not the first thing on my mind for once. I do have to note that it was in the back of my mind the whole time. Just being that close to him made me think of it for reasons that I couldn't describe.

"Thank you for tonight, Jareth. It was amazing," I said breathlessly.

"Likewise," he replied with his easy carelessness. He kissed my hand softly, "Good night, Sarah."

It was all I could do not to drag him inside with me.

"Good night, Jareth," I said, finally slipping my key into the lock and opening my door. Jareth watched me go inside, and I in turn watched him slide into his limo, all the while smirking at me through the window.

I fell onto my bed and touched my lips gently with my fingers. What an amazing night!

**_AN #2: The castle featured in this chapter is based on Hammond Castle in Gloucester, MA. Have I ever been there? No. But…I found some pictures on the net and now I want to go there. ;) __ I suppose you now know that I've set this story in Boston, despite the fact that I have never been to Boston. I think it's because I keep having these dreams about Boston…or rather, what I believe to be Boston. :s Uhhh…it's the gravol talking…yes…that's it…._**


	7. The Trouble with Rivalry

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Labyrinth or any of the characters associated with the film. They are the property of the Jim Henson Company.

**AN: I am feeling better. Must have been some random stomach bug thingy. Not much to say about this chapter, really…**

The weekend marched onwards with Saturday morning leaving me convinced that the night before had been a dream. How else was that possible? Who on earth takes a girl who spilt coffee all over your designer suit out on a first date that leaves her breathless? Who, I ask you! Jareth Knightly, that's who. And, as though on cue, every time I had managed to convince myself that it had all been a lovely dream revolving around an attractive client, I would catch a glimpse of grey roses. Even when I went to change I was reminded that it had all been quite real by a lovely red gown hanging, so out of place, in my closet.

Jareth didn't call, but I didn't expect him to either. I was quite excited as the team was to meet with Jareth on Tuesday morning to go over the preliminary designs. The downside of that was that I would have to meet with the brilliantly cold Lucie to match up slogans with sketches. It might not have been so bad originally, but now that I knew that she had set her sights on Jareth, things may not go so smoothly.

Monday morning was upon me before I knew it, and so was Lucie. She had bombarded me before I even had a chance to take off my coat demanding that I meet her "in five" in the boardroom. I sighed as I gathered up all of my poster boards and moved to meet her in the boardroom. When I got there, she had spread out all of her slogans, typed uselessly and wastefully on poster board. So much for the environment. I set up my posters before moving to read each of her statements. She, in turn, moved around the room swiftly, assessing each of my sketches. She quickly began matching the phrases with the pictures. She might be brilliant with words, but matching the picture with the right phrase? Not so much. I walked up behind her and started switching phrases as she placed them. She had started her rampage wordlessly and so I carried on with mine wordlessly as well.

"What are you doing?" she asked, incensed, tilting her pretty blonde head to the side with her hands on her hips.

"Making recommended changes," I replied, smugly pursing my lips. Honestly, little girl, two can play at this game.

"Look, I have a _degree_ in literature," she said pointedly. I looked from her to the poster board and back again.

"Unless that's a _degree_ in children's literature, I doubt that you've had much experience with matching pictures with words," I said as reasonably as I could. What a little minx, trying to rub her degree in my face as though I didn't have one of my own. To my chagrin, Lucie snorted at me. I think snorting had become a regular part of my life at that point.

"I suppose, at your age, you've had lots of experience with children's books," she spat. I know my mouth fell open a bit at the sheer insult of the statement. I was only thirty-three! She was treating me like a forty-five year old mother of five!

"As a matter of fact, I have had quite a bit of experience with children's books by no fault of my own," I replied smoothly, causing her smug smirk to fall a bit. "And, in a sense, we must treat consumers as children."

I moved to the nearest poster board and plucked the complicated slogan from it, replacing it with a simple sentence. The sketch was a quite complicated image of the entire labyrinth, with the castle at the centre, from a high vantage point. I shook my head at it, the sentence was close to being right but it wasn't_ right_. I leaned my chin on my hand and looked about. I hardly noticed that Lucie was standing next to me with a slightly puzzled expression on her face. It was as though she had decided to take a different stance on the campaign; she was also trying to find the right phrase for the picture.

"Nothing is right," she said suddenly. "Nothing fits this sketch."

I stared for a moment more before it came flying out of my mouth. "It needs something simple and contradictory. Like…I don't know…Sometimes the way forward is also the way back. I'm not sure, something like that – something simple that makes you think."

Lucie was staring at my profile so I turned to meet her gaze, ready to offer some sort of apology for stepping on her toes. "What did you say?" she asked.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean…," I started.

"No, really, that statement – what was it?"

"Oh," I said, confused. "Sometimes the way forward is also the way back."

"Did you hear that somewhere? Does it belong to someone else?" she asked, frantically scrawling it out on a scrap of paper.

"Uh, no, I don't think so. I mean, someone said it to me a long time ago," I mumbled. "I can't remember who."

"That's fine. That's it! Thanks!"

Before I had a chance to say anything, she had gathered up all of her phrases and shot out the door. I raised my eyebrows and started to gather up all my sketches when I heard Roger enter the room.

"Are these the finished sketches?" he asked.

I glanced behind my shoulder at him, and spread the few from my hands out on the table in front of me. "Yes. Well, as finished as I can get them."

"They're good, really good," he said, smiling. He patted me on the shoulder. "Sarah, would you join me for lunch today? I have a few things to go over with you before the meeting tomorrow."

"Um, sure, no problem."

Lunch was a little strange, I have to say. Roger and I walked to a nearby coffee shop and dined on tuna sandwiches.

"The suits are quite impressed with your work ethic after your rocky start, but they are a little concerned with certain aspects of your…decorum," Roger said casually before sipping his iced tea. My heart jumped into my throat. I could not lose this job.

"Excuse me?" I said, as calmly as I could.

Roger looked at me with some meaning. "A certain employee has raised concerns with your social activities with a certain client."

I nodded, rolling my eyes in irritation. "Okay, Roger, why not just come out with it? Lucie thinks I have something going on with Mr. Knightly."

I hoped I was pulling off a convincing act. I really had to try so as not to say Jareth instead of Mr. Knightly. Of course, all good things come to an end, I just didn't expect it to end so soon. Roger snorted (there it is again!).

"Well, there's nothing to worry about. I cleared it up," he said, leaning in and winking. "You have to watch out for the young ones, they're out for blood."

I wanted to remind him that I, myself, was not so very far from young. "Lucie is only interested because she is…well…interested in Mr. Knightly herself."

It was probably something I shouldn't have said in the presence of my supervisor, but then again he had just told me that Lucie was sneaking around and telling the board that I was having secret rendezvous with Jareth. It really was besides the point that I actually was.

"What's the big deal anyway? We're all adults, why is it such an issue if I did have a personal relationship Mr. Knightly?" I asked, somewhat innocently, once again neglecting to mention that I had seen him outside of a work setting, and therefore technically _was_ in a personal relationship with him. After that kiss, this relationship had a fairly good chance of getting more personal. There was also something sort of kinky about having to sneak around. I felt like I was fifteen and sneaking out my bedroom window to meet boys – not that I ever did. In fact, I think I'd be more likely to sneak back in my window to avoid a doctored date care of my stepmother back then.

"Sarah," Roger said, his face paling at my question. I gave him a wary look. "It's against company policy."

"I read the handbook, it's not in there."

"It's _unwritten_," Roger said, shocked that I was carrying this conversation on further.

"Then it doesn't exist," I said, shrugging before gulping back my juice. Roger stared at me for a moment.

"Sarah," his voice held a note of warning but I merely looked at him.

"Yes?"

"Are you involved with Mr. Knightly?"

I put down my drink. This was getting a bit ridiculous. Who had started this whole nonsense anyway? Oh, yes, that's right - Jareth. "I really don't feel that it's anyone's business even if I were."

"So you aren't?"

"Acquaintances." A little white lie never hurt anyone. Besides, really, we were little more than acquaintances _well-versed _in each other's lives. Acquaintances who had kissed. Okay, so it was an outright lie, but what was I supposed to do? Tell the truth and get fired for disorderly conduct? Although I felt that Roger still seemed somewhat apprehensive, he seemed to accept my lie if only to cover his own ass.

I woke up early the next morning to spend an absurd amount of time preening in front of the mirror. I shook my head at myself more than once during the process. I should know better than to be smitten with rich, handsome men. Who knew what his motives were? He could have completely dishonourable intentions, and a man like Jareth would have no scruples about being dishonourable. Regardless, I continued to primp. When I was finally satisfied that I had perfected the "natural" look, I rushed out the door and headed to the office.

I arrived just in time to catch the very frantic Lucie moving her posters into the boardroom. It was fairly obvious that I was not the only one who had spent time getting ready this morning. She gave me a shocked look because I was not moving quite as frantically as her. I gathered up my poster boards carefully and moved them into the boardroom with ease. I really wasn't sure why she had become so frazzled. I popped into the washroom quickly to make sure the walk hadn't completely destroyed my hair, and low and behold, who had followed me in other than Lucie! She glanced at me quickly.

"You look nice," she said, not unkindly.

"Thanks, you too," I replied. Lucie stopped looking in the mirror and turned to face me. I was waiting for her to ask me if I was involved with Jareth, however what she said to me instead was far more amusing.

"Look, you might be closer to his age, but everyone knows older men prefer younger women," she said matter-of-factly. I suppressed a snort as I was trying to eradicate their existence from my life.

"Oh?"

Lucie stared at me, scrutinizing my every feature. "Well, you are quite beautiful, but make no mistake – I intend to win."

I lifted my eyebrows in amusement. This girl really was out for blood, but it wasn't career-oriented. I couldn't help the smile that tugged at my mouth.

"I wasn't aware that there was a competition," I said smoothly. "What about that _unwritten_ policy?"

Lucie looked confused and I thought for a moment that I was mistaken in my assumption. "My father is a major stakeholder in this company."

My mouth fell open at the hypocrisy of the company. Heaven forbid a single woman under their employ date a client, but it was fine and dandy for Daddy the Stakeholder to find his daughter a job. And, of course she could break all the rules. I shook my head at her.

"Unbelievable," I muttered as I left the room. I could practically feel her eyes burning a hole in the back of my head. Well, Jareth Knightly was one thing that daddy couldn't give her.


	8. The Trouble with Unwritten Policies

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Labyrinth or any of the characters associated with the film. They are the property of the Jim Henson Company.

**AN: AHA! I am gainfully employed now! Okay, so, temporarily…But, as such, I will be unable to stay up past twelve to post and likely unable to post when I wake up, so you get an early treat today!! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed. I am glad you all like the story so much. :)**

I walked into the boardroom to find that I was the first member of the team there. Jareth was examining my sketches in that sexily lazy manner of his, dragging his fingertips over the empty throne I had drawn. I smiled a secret, tiny smile as I watched him. Finally, I decided to alert him of my presence but just as I started forward I was elbowed by Lucie, who rushed past me to Jareth's side. I _almost_ snorted again, but instead shook my head once more and took a seat. I could hear his low, resonating voice as he spoke to Lucie in the corner and all I could think about was his lips on mine. I tried to banish the thought from my mind, which was quite easy when Lucie's piercing voice cut through the air. I opened my eyes and turned them in their direction. There was an amused smile playing on Jareth's lips, but his amusement was not kind.

I tried to catch his eye, but I was unsuccessful – or, he was avoiding me. I tried to push all thoughts regarding Jareth out and tried to focus on Mr. Knightly. He was, after all, the client. This is exactly why one should never mix business with pleasure. Although I blame the firm entirely; they should know better than to take on incredibly attractive clients. It was at this point that my mind slid back to dinner and dancing and a long limo ride. Luckily Roger arrived at long last to start the meeting. _Focus on the sketches, Sarah. The sketches._

The meeting was running smoothly. I was slightly irked that Jareth had still not made any form of eye contact with me. In fact, he spent most of his time playfully bantering with Lucie. I refused to acknowledge that nagging emotion that crawled up within me. Doubt had started to join it. Jealousy and insecurity were quite a couple – always egging each other on. I frowned, trying to remain in control. I wasn't supposed to be involved with Jareth in any way other than business acquaintances. I couldn't afford to let on otherwise or Daddy the Stakeholder might inform the board that I don't perform my job up to par. I took a deep breath and waited for this tortuous meeting to be over. And this was the moment when I got my much desired eye contact, although the reasoning behind it was not pleasant.

"On a final note, I have to say I was disappointed in some of these sketches," Jareth said slowly, his eyes resting on my face.

I couldn't help my mouth falling open in shock. That was the last thing I had hoped to hear. Lucie was beside herself with wicked glee. I recouped cleanly, denying my jealous, insecure nature.

"What would you like changed, Mr. Knightly?" I asked, rather coldly. In fact, it came across as quite clinical. I took out my notepad and readied my pen. I surprised myself with my coolness. I wanted to smirk when Lucie's face curled into a scowl at my recovery.

"Nothing. I just wanted to see if you were still in attendance of the meeting," he said, giving me a crooked smile. Both Lucie and Roger shot me looks; the combination was deadly and possibly lethal to my career. How I answered this direct flirtation was imperative to my position with the firm.

"I apologize if I seem out of sorts. I'm afraid I haven't been feeling well," I replied smoothly, again with a clinical edge to my voice. This seemed to satisfy Roger, but Lucie was still glaring at me. I didn't look up at Jareth again. He caught the hint and told us how pleased he was with the progress. He gave us the thumbs up to carry on with the next phase of the project.

All I wanted was to get out of that room. Insecurity had won me over to the dark side and I was certain that Jareth was a serial dater hell bent on winning the hearts of insecure women. Of course that wouldn't explain Lucie, but that was okay because jealousy had an explanation for that, too. Clearly he'd met his match in the pretty, intelligent albeit spoiled rich girl. I was the game, she was the real thing.

Roger left the room first, and Lucie hung back to chit chat with Jareth. There was no way for me to leave the room without passing by them directly. I took a deep breath and moved around them. I was home free until I felt fingers gently but insistently circling my wrist. I twisted around and clutched my hand to my chest, as though it had been burnt. I am sure that all either Lucie or Jareth could see in my eyes was green fire. I never allowed men to touch me in the workplace. It was my self-preservation stepping in once more. Too many times had I been scalded by inappropriate workplace touching. I vowed to never allow it again.

"I'm sorry, Miss Williams," Jareth said, genuine concern flooding his features and making me feel like a git. "I did call your name, but you were unresponsive."

Lucie was staring at me with wide, disbelieving eyes. She looked up at Jareth once and then back to me. "He did, Sarah."

I broke eye contact, feeling like an idiot. Sometimes my self-preservation kicks into high gear unnecessarily. "I'm sorry," I said, shaking my head. "Like I said, I'm not feeling well."

"I wouldn't want to detain you, Miss Williams, but I would like to discuss one sketch in particular," he explained with concern still swimming in those murky blue depths.

"Of course," I replied, opening my notepad. I followed him to the sketch in question, which was a view of the entire labyrinth from a high vantage point. Jareth had begun to explain to me how he wanted the sketch changed. He wanted the vantage point to be on more of an angle than it was; some colour changes; and, some minor detail alterations. I kept my eyes on the page as he spoke, quickly jotting down the changes. Suddenly, Jareth stopped talking and looked over his shoulder as the door clicked shut. I followed his gaze to find that Lucie had left the room.

"I thought she'd never leave," Jareth sighed, smiling warmly at me.

"Wha…?" I mumbled incoherently as I looked up at him.

"Are you really unwell?"

I shook my head at him and looked down at my page again, finishing the sentence I had started.

"Sarah," he started.

"I think you should stick to Miss Williams," I said sharply. Jareth said nothing and the silence forced me to look up to his face. He was watching me with a puzzled expression.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I said, refusing to look him in the face again.

"Sarah," he purred, tilting my chin up to look him in the eyes. I pulled my head out of his grip and glared at him with my green fire again.

"What are you doing?" I hissed, immediately irritated with my own tone. I sounded frantic and panicky. "Are you trying to get me fired?"

Jareth glanced around the room once and gave me a suspicious look. "Do they have cameras in here? Because there aren't any windows, Sarah."

I glanced around miserably. "I wouldn't put it past them."

Jareth moved to touch me again but I backed out of his grip, dropping my hands to my side uselessly. "Look, Jareth. People are on to us, particularly Lucie," I started, somewhat sadly. I didn't want to end things between us, not now when they were only beginning. "Her father is a stakeholder. I could lose my job with unwritten policies and all that nonsense."

I looked up to find Jareth watching me with an indiscernible expression.

"I really need this job," I said to him, helplessly.

Jareth sauntered towards me with a mischievous smile on his face. I stayed firmly planted to my spot. If this was goodbye, I wasn't going to run from it no matter how much my body screamed at me to get away from him and his impending kisses. He reached out and took my hand, bringing it up to his lips slowly. His eyes were downcast as he examined my palm.

"There's an easy way around Lucie," he said smugly.

"Yeah, and what's that?" I asked, disbelieving of the whole situation. Jareth cast his eyes up to mine and kiss my palm softly.

"I become a bigger stakeholder than her father," he replied, winking. I rolled my eyes at him and smiled slightly.

"That's better," he remarked. The smile fell from my face when I noticed that he was moving in to kiss me. He was lowering his head towards mine at a tortuously slow speed and I craned my head upwards to meet his lips faster. Right now I really didn't care if the whole board walked in on us. I really need the reassurance that this was real, that he was real. I could feel the smirk on his lips when mine reached up to meet them. His kisses were dangerously intoxicating. It was so easy to drown in them; even easier when he pulled me closer to his body.

I could hear people conversing down the hallway and broke the kiss abruptly, instantly remembering that I was at work. For some reason I felt that I had been in some enchanted forest throughout the entire kiss.

"I have to go back to work," I said, shaking my head to clear it.

"Are you sure? Your supervisor heard you say that you weren't feeling well," Jareth offered suggestively with a quick smirk. I shook my head at him.

"I need this job," I said plainly.

A devilish grin spread across Jareth's face. "I think this relationship could be far more beneficial to you."

My mouth fell open in indignation. "Are you suggesting that I would benefit from your finances?"

Jareth shrugged lightly with an amused grin on his face. "You could live in the lap of luxury."

"How archaic of you. What makes you think I would want to? And, with _you_ no less?" I asked, smiling widely.

"Oh? You didn't like the castle?"

"Of course I did. But romance can be had at less cost," I replied as I started to gather my poster board.

"Really?" he asked, watching me as I moved around the room.

"Yes," I responded, glaring at him. "You know what you need?"

He raised his eyebrows in indication that he did not know what he needed.

"A nice, old-fashioned, middle-class date, that's what."

"Your treat?"

I laughed lightly. "Of course."

I stopped walking and looked at him, jealousy and insecurity had gone on vacation now. "I'll pick you up Friday at eight," I said, grinning like an idiot.

"Sounds wonderful. I suppose you need my address," he said, plucking my notebook out of my full hands. He scribbled down his address and tucked the book under my arm. I glared at him jokingly. He responded by opening the door for me.

"Excellent work, Miss Williams," he said quite loudly. "See you in two weeks."

With that, he disappeared down the hallway without a second glance. As I watched him leave, I wondered if he really would become a bigger stakeholder for me. Then my mind rudely reminded me that I was supposed to make middle-class romantic.


	9. The Trouble with Mini Putt

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Labyrinth or any of the characters associated with the film. They are the property of the Jim Henson Company.

**AN: WHAT A LOVELY DAY! Because I had a wonderful day of being useful to society once more, you get an early update. I'm overwhelmed with the response that this story is receiving. Thank you very much!! Much love, D.**

**Oh, and FM, darling, I gave it a 'smirk' once over. I hope it's to your satisfaction. ;)**

I spent the rest of that day, and really, the rest of that week drawing the enchanted forest that I had envisioned during our kiss. I don't know why, but just being around him inspired me to reach out into the fantastic a little further. The whole time something was nagging at the back of my mind. It was as though I'd been to this forest before, but I _knew_ that I'd never been to such a place. At least I _thought_ I hadn't. I also spent my time at home digging through boxes to try to find that little book. It had to be around somewhere.

Oddly enough, I found it Friday morning. I tripped over it on my bedroom floor. I have no idea how it had gotten there so I imagined that I had dug it out of a box and tossed it without even realizing it. I didn't have the time to read it then so I just tossed it onto my bed in a hurry as I rushed to leave for the day. I wanted to get into the office early so that I could sneak out early for my date with Jareth. His address was on the other side of the city and I didn't have a limo to rely on.

I spent most of that day leaning on my desk and staring at my computer screen. I couldn't concentrate; I didn't know how well my middle-class date would go with Jareth. He was pretty easy going, so I imagined it'd be fun. Even if he hated it, I think that he would humour me. I had decided to treat him to a good, old fashioned hamburger and milkshake followed by a friendly game of late fall mini putt. We would freeze our asses off, this much is true, but it would be an old fashioned date. And, chances are we'd have the mini putt place to ourselves this late in the fall. It could be romantic. Maybe. And then we could come back to my place for a cup of hot cocoa. My cheeks grew red at the thought of Jareth in my tiny apartment. Well, I was less concerned with the state of my apartment so much as the state of my bedroom.

I tried to banish these thoughts because I had decided to not rush into things with Jareth, make the euphoria last. But, come on, who was I kidding? His kisses made me feel like I was in another world; I could lose myself so easily in him – I was doomed. And, I was in a very good position for having my heart broken once he realized that I was just Sarah Williams, a girl who had her youth snatched away by a wicked stepmother and grew up way too fast. Four thirty couldn't come fast enough! I still needed to go home and change before bounding across the city on public transit. The thought crossed my mind that perhaps Jareth had never been subjected to public transit before. This was going to be a fun night.

I rushed out of the office, claiming that I was late for an appointment, and hurried home. It really is ridiculous; the amount of time women spend trying to achieve a carefully perfected casual appearance. I must have spent at least an hour deciding on how I should wear my hair. In the end it was all for naught. I opted for jeans and a white button down shirt and swept my hair up carelessly in a clip. Of course, it wasn't all _that_ careless. It was more carefully planned to _look _careless. Once I was satisfied I set off for my long bus ride to Jareth's side of town. The side of town where people lived in single home houses the size of three of my little townhouses.

With the sheet of my notebook crumpled in my clammy hand, I walked down Jareth's street. What the hell had I gotten myself into? Why on Earth would someone who lives this lifestyle want to go mini putting with me? Oh well. If he took one look at my carefully dishevelled appearance against a faux green background and ran, who could stop him? I stopped in front of a wrought iron gate and chewed on my lip nervously. I reached out to push the button of the intercom but hesitated.

"You're late!" a voice said from thin air. I jumped, my heart pounding as I looked around frantically. It took me a moment to realize that the voice had come from the intercom and belonged to Jareth. I could hear the laugh in his voice next.

"I'll be down in a moment."

The gate swung open, but he hadn't invited me in so I decided to stay firmly planted to where I was standing. Jareth came striding down the ridiculously long and pristine driveway. I stared at him nervously and he returned my stare with an amused, yet strange expression.

"You could have come through the gate," he said smoothly, kissing me on the cheek lightly. "Pick me up at the door like a gentleman."

I smiled although I was unsure of myself. "Well, maybe I'm not a gentleman. Maybe I have impure intentions."

Jareth's eyebrows shot up. "Well, far be it from me to stop you from robbing me of my virtue."

This time I laughed outright. Jareth looked at me expectantly so I offered him my arm. It was his turn to laugh as he accepted it. We walked back to the bus stop.

"What a wonderful mode of transportation, Miss Williams," he remarked, his eyes smiling.

I shrugged. "It's the only one I've got!"

Jareth took riding the bus tolerably well considering I had expected him to eye it distastefully and then turn his distaste upon me. He didn't however, and the ride was actually fun. We exchanged a good deal of small talk, as much as one could on a bus, until we finally reached our destination.

"Autumn mini putt?" he asked, a smile on his lips.

"Well, it's the best I could think of," I replied, biting my lip again. I feared his displeasure more than anything.

"And, how is mini putt romantic, Miss Williams?"

I looked around, surveying the site. "Well, do you see anyone else here?"

Jareth looked about, as well. "No. But that hardly seems romantic," he said, finishing his sentence with that damn mischievous grin of his. "More…scandalous."

I scowled at him and paid the bored looking teenager who watched us with a confused expression. I could follow his thoughts at that moment. What the hell were two grown adults, one dressed to the nines in designer gear and the other carefully tousled, doing playing mini putt in the fall? Good question. How was I supposed to make this romantic? Oh right, I'm relying on the magic of hot cocoa. We started our game in relative silence. I could feel Jareth's eyes on me at all times. Finally he spoke.

"So, that new brilliant phrase of Lucie's," he started.

"I thought that we weren't discussing business on our dates?" I interrupted.

"Ah, that was my rule. This is your date. You haven't laid down the rules," he said, winking. He watched me expectantly and I rolled my eyes in irritation.

"Oh fine. Now, I'm curious. What about her phrase?" I asked, exasperated.

"She didn't write it," he said simply.

My heart started pounding. I had given her the phrase; had it actually been someone else's? Was I infringing copyright laws? Lucie could get away with it, but _I_ could not. And she would certainly see to it that I would take the fall for it. I swallowed hard. I should have made it a rule not to discuss the project on our date. I looked at Jareth, who was leaning languidly on his putter.

"Oh?" I asked, my mouth dry.

"No."

"Then who did?" I think my tongue was filling my sandpaper mouth. What a terrible feeling.

"Well," he said smirking and giving me a meaningful look. "Only you can confirm or deny, but it is my belief that the phrase has _you_ written all over it; if you'll excuse the expression."

I stared at him for a moment, allowing my breathing to return to normal. I took my stroke shakily before responding.

"Well, you caught me. How did you know?"

I stepped out of the way so he could putt. I watched him line it up. It was obvious that he had played more than a few games of golf. I wondered to myself how it was that he was so effortlessly gorgeous. Genetics was so kind to some people.

"It's too clever for her," he said as he took his stroke. Hole in one. My competitive nature screamed in frustration. He looked back at me, cocking his head to the side. "Don't get me wrong; she knows her words. She just doesn't know how to simplify. That's something that comes with life experience."

"Ah," I replied, nodding wisely. I felt very unwise. At that moment I felt as though Jareth was very old. An old soul, as they say. Maybe that was how he remained so effortless; he was really living life. I guess that would explain why he was unmarried. I could easily imagine him tramping through Europe alone, living a life of freedom. Before he had a chance to say anymore about the project, I decided to impart my rule.

"No more work talk," I said taking the next stroke.

Jareth looked somewhat disappointed. "But I wanted to discuss your sketches," he said quietly. "From a non-work perspective."

Finally: a hole in one. I turned back to him. "Maybe later. I am far too self-conscious at the moment to discuss my art, look perfect, and win a game of mini putt all at once." I gave him a smug smile and he chuckled. The sound was familiar to me, a sort of mocking satin rumble. I gave him an insincere glare before stalking off dramatically to the next hole. He followed, still laughing in that irritatingly sexy chuckle. The next hole was inside a sort of cave enclosure. In the summer time, it would technically be underneath the waterfall, but at this time of year the water had been turned off. I leaned against the wall waiting for Jareth to take his shot.

Jareth's eyes slowly drank in the inside of the cave. His mesmerizing eyes finally made their way to my own pair. His lips were curled upward with a slightly sinister sort of grin gracing his face. He looked like an angel – an angel who had fallen straight out of heaven for bad behaviour. I couldn't stop the flirty half-smile that danced to my lips.

"What?" I asked as Jareth sauntered towards me. He rested his free hand on the wall beside my head, leaning against it. I looked at him expectantly. I was actually surprised that I was not bothered or frightened by the situation. There had been a lot of men in my life who had tried to use the same pose as an intimidation factor. I have to admit in every case I was scared at least a little bit. The first time it had happened was foggy in my mind, but I remember the fear. And, with the fear I remember feeling like fighting. And, I did fight. But, fighters often fall and the next time I wasn't so lucky. It was that time that I had learned to choose my battles wisely, especially when facing a feisty young man with three times my weight in muscle. I also learned to choose my men more wisely – not that I've had much luck, regardless.

"I was just thinking," he said slyly, letting his eyes skim the surrounding area while playfully twirling a lock of my hair in his other hand, "That _this_ might be romantic."

I smiled slightly. I was still surprised that I wasn't running for the hills. This was an enclosed space, a man was leaning over me in a situation so similar to those of the past, and yet I was completely fine with it. Did I trust him that much already? I was certainly set up for heartbreak, there was no chance for survival. Especially since he was leaning in to kiss me. That smell that was distinctly his filled my nostrils and I closed my eyes, letting the dream wash over me. This time, when his lips touched mine, all I could see was a tunnel, damp and dank. Ah, but it wasn't a tunnel at all – it was an oubliette. One entrance, no exit. A place where you put people so that you can forget about them. But, with the insistent, gentle pressure on my lips, the slight caress of tongue on tongue, I knew he hadn't forgotten about me. This image flashed through my mind. The Goblin King. He was so like Jareth in appearance in my vision. Why was I seeing this now? Couldn't I ever have a kiss in peace? As quickly as the image had come, it had also gone. Now, all I could see was that gate that I had sketched. The entrance to the labyrinth.

Jareth broke the kiss and looked at me with a strange expression on his face. He licked his lips and kept watching me as I leaned breathless against the wall. How the hell did his kisses do that to me?

"How are your knees feeling?" he asked. I could feel my face scrunch up in confusion at his odd question.

"Fine, why?"

"Damn. I was hoping that I could weaken them and dampen your game," he said smugly, winking at me. I smiled and shook my head at him.

"It's not going to happen, buddy," I replied. "Takes more than that to make me lose my game."

His eyebrows shot up and I realized that I hadn't really thought before speaking. "Is that a challenge?"

I gave him a look that told him it was not, and he merely smiled. He returned to the game, but not without releasing that chuckle again. About half an hour later we walked to the bus stop. Jareth had reigned victorious, and although he didn't gloat, it was all over his body language. He had this "I'm-king-of-the-world" swagger to his walk. After a while it became quite amusing.

"So, what's next?" he asked while I was watching him swagger from behind with a smirk on my face.

"Oh," I said, nervousness washing over me. "Well, this _is_ middle-class."

I was very brave, but asking Jareth of all people to come to my little apartment was terrifying. Jareth stopped and turned to face me, eagerly awaiting the next segment of the date.

"Well," I said slowly, weighing out my words carefully. "I thought that we could have some hot cocoa."

"That sounds lovely," Jareth replied with a twinkle in his eye. It was as though he knew that there was more to that statement and he was just waiting to hear the words leave my mouth. I rolled my eyes in irritation at him, but said nothing.

"And, where would we have hot cocoa, Sarah?" he asked. It was actually the first time that night that he had said my name and it sent very pleasant shivers down my spine. It was almost as though he had been holding on to it all night as a bargaining chip. _Say my name, Jareth, and I'm yours._ I looked at my feet. Somehow he made me feel like a very awkward teenager again. I reminded myself that I was an adult and lifted my eyes to meet his.

"Well, I have a lovely variety of very middle-class hot cocoa at my apartment," I said smartly. Jareth gave me a satisfied, very smug, sideways smile.

"Lead the way, Princess."


	10. The Trouble with Hot Cocoa

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Labyrinth or any of the characters associated with the film. They are the property of the Jim Henson Company.

**AN: Right, so here…you wanted it…your "explanations". Okay, so there's not much of an explanation, but at least you'll see "labyrinth" in this now. Oh, and FM, I haven't gone over this chapter for smirk usage and I apologize, but I'm really worn out right now so you'll have to take it as it is…maybe I should employ you as my smirk police. ;)**

Seeing as the bus really is my only form of transportation, we took it back to my townhouse. I was relaxed at this point as it was obvious that Jareth did not judge me differently for being ever so slightly less financially endowed than him. We talked about everything on that bus ride, from his family and heritage to why he had developed a fantasy genre based company. As it turns out, Jareth is just as much of a fantasy lover as I was. I asked him, although something told me not to, if he had ever heard of _The Labyrinth_. The expression that washed over his face was a strange one; unreadable and slightly confused. He admitted that although the title sounded very familiar to him, he could not recall if he had ever read it. I told him of what I could remember of the story. A sort of recognition crossed his features.

"This story sounds like it may have been the basis for your sketches," he said, interested.

"Well, if it was, it was unconsciously done," I replied. "I haven't read that book in oh, almost twenty years, I'd say."

"Hmm. It does sound familiar," Jareth said, averting his eyes to watch the world rushing past through the window. "Do you know who wrote it?"

"You know, that's the funny thing," I said, scratching my head. "I did so many searches for it – from library catalogues to the internet. I can't find the book anywhere."

Jareth had spun his head back to look at me again. "No?"

I shook my head, shrugging slightly. Jareth lifted his eyebrows once, as though to say 'Oh well'. A slow smile spread across his features as I reached up to pull the cord. We were almost to my apartment. The walk there was short and we carried it out quickly, as the temperature had dropped considerably. I slid my key into the lock and pushed the door open with Jareth in tow. Slipping my shoes off, I turned to take his coat.

"I can give you the two cent tour," I started to say. I was suddenly aware of how close he was to me and how intoxicating his scent was. My apartment hallway was so very small, and it felt even smaller now. Jareth watched me carefully, a small smile on his lips. I shook my head and turned from him.

"This is the living room," I said, pointing into the nearest room. "Next is the dining room, and kitchen."

Jareth followed me in silence, his keen eyes drinking in every detail. I felt very vulnerable and exposed, somehow. But, I pressed onward. "Bathroom," I said, opening the door to reveal my tidy little restroom. And that was where I ended the tour. He didn't need to see my bedroom – or so I thought.

"What is in that room?" he asked. There was something in his eyes, a deep amusement twinkling brightly within.

"That," I said, glaring at him. "Is my bedroom."

Jareth gave me a bit of a pout, which I have to admit was rather enticing. "You won't show me your bedroom?"

"That's a little bold," I said fiercely, although I couldn't help but smirk at him. I turned and headed back to the kitchen to start making the hot cocoa. Jareth followed leisurely behind me and I was forced to remind myself that this was indeed real. I turned and motioned for Jareth to take a seat in the living room. I suddenly found it impossible to look him in the eye. I felt as if I weren't worthy of his presence, so I decided to remove myself from it to make the hot cocoa and calm down. I don't know why he did that to me, or rather how he did that to me. I was skittish the whole time I was in the kitchen. Jareth was awfully quiet, likely indicating that he was peering at my things again. Or, he had come to his senses and left. I didn't like either of those scenarios. I rushed out into the living room with the hot cocoa to find him still there, on my couch, with a small red book in his hands. I frowned. I distinctly remember that book being left on my bed earlier. My frown only deepened when I realized that there was no way he could have gone into my room without me both seeing and hearing him do it.

I sat down in the armchair at the end of the coffee table, well away from Jareth.

"Where did you find that?" I asked, shakily, trying not to jump to conclusions.

Jareth looked up, his expression betraying only curiosity. "I sat on it, apparently," he replied glancing behind him.

"Oh," I said, staring at the offending item.

Jareth raised an eyebrow and lifted his mug to his lips…before I had a chance to stop him.

"It's," I started, he sipped. "Hot."

Tears came to Jareth's eyes and he sucked in air to cool his tongue. Instinctually, a side effect of having raised a young boy came over me. I put my cocoa on the table and rushed to his side to rub his back.

"Do you want some water?" I asked, biting my lip.

Jareth just looked at me with this really strange expression on his face, somewhere in between surprise and lust. And, I was aware now how close I was to him. I hadn't meant to invoke romance by burning his tongue. He was going to kiss me – or so I thought. His expression changed slowly and became something a bit more melancholy as he pushed a loose strand of my hair from my face.

"Are you afraid of me, Sarah?"

I hadn't been expecting that. I looked away as my mind frantically though up an answer for him. No, it's not you. Yes, I am scared. Yes, I don't expect this to last. Yes, I'm afraid that I may never feel this way about anyone ever again. I looked up again to find him watching me expectantly, the melancholy increased.

"Yes," I whispered breathlessly, "And, no."

His expression changed to something else, something a little confused and intrigued.

"You see, my heart has become rather hard over the years," I started, only glancing up at his face as I moved to say the next part of my statement. "But, with you it's gotten a bit…soft."

The tiniest of smiles graced his face and he tilted my face up to his. At first the kiss was gentle but insistent, as though he was breaking down all of my barriers. Then, he deepened it slowly by meeting my tongue with his in soft, enticing flicks. It was a perfect kiss, this time drowning in his scent, I could see the inside of a castle. It sort of rushed by me, as though I were running. There were stairs, and I ran up them with urgency. Jareth and I were tangled up rather tightly now, the kiss so deep I was holding in a moan. My mental vision showed me a room reminiscent of an Escher sketch, all stairs going in all directions. I was looking around, looking for something. It was then that my world exploded. I looked down and saw Toby as a baby, looking up at me with his icy blue eyes. I looked behind me to see him, the Goblin King, coming towards me. All at once it came flooding back to me in a wave. Jareth Knightly was the Goblin King. I fought him, I won, I ran that labyrinth – it was all _real_.

Jareth and I both stopped and I pushed him away, staring at him with wide eyes. His expression was just as bewildered as mine. For a long moment, we simply stared at each other, not quite sure of what to say. His mouth opened as though he was about to say something, but at that exact moment, the phone rang. I tore my eyes away from Jareth's and ran to the phone on the other side of the room.

"Hello," I said, my voice shaking.

"Hi, Sis!"

Toby. Oh God, of all the times for _Toby_ to call. I was both relieved and terrified at the same time.

"Oh, hi," I said, careful not to say his name, just in case. I peered nervously at Jareth, whose face was still masked in confusion. Did he know? Was I crazy? Maybe I was just losing my mind, I couldn't be sure. But, he had broken apart from me as well. Something had to have happened to him, too.

"Sarah? Is something wrong?" Oh, Toby. How could I answer that question? I wanted desperately to hang up the phone as an overprotective tactic. How should I know whether the Goblin King was here for me, or for my little brother – the one that got away?

"Uh, no. Everything is fine," I lied. My voice betrayed me, and Jareth watched me with an indiscernible expression. It all made sense, really. Our meeting couldn't have been chance, but why the romance? Why the big show? Why the kisses that melted my muscles? I swallowed hard as it finally dawned on me. In the end, when I had said those final words, which were written in typed text in that little, offending red book now sitting on my coffee table, the Goblin King had offered me my dreams. He had said 'Fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave.' What exactly had that meant? I certainly hadn't been aware of it at fifteen, but now I was a little wiser – I stress a _little_. Had the Goblin King actually been proposing to me then? Was he here to win my heart and then toss it back, as I had done to him all those years ago?

"Sarah, you're lying," Toby said sternly. Okay, now was not the time to panic. The time to panic was as soon as I hung up the phone, but now was the time to end any possible connection between Toby and the Goblin King. I was playing a dangerous game, and it would only get more dangerous if Toby decided to come home. I closed my eyes and focussed on a joke that I had heard. It was a technique that I remembered from acting school so many years ago. I laughed, and it was surprisingly realistic. So realistic, in fact, that Jareth looked up at me with deepened confusion. This was bad, I had probably caused him to consider who was on the other line now.

"No, I'm not! Sorry, you just caught me in the middle of something," I said with a false lilt. I could tell by Toby's voice that he was not fully convinced.

"What _something_ Sarah?"

I swallowed before speaking again. This was the only way to convince Toby that I was fine. Go with it, Sarah. "I have someone over," I whispered into the receiver, as though I was trying to hide the fact that I was on the phone from the 'someone'. It had worked, Toby made an understanding 'Oh' noise.

"I'll let you go then," he said. I could hear the grin in his voice and I rolled my eyes. "Sarah, I'm glad you've found someone who makes you that nervous."

I didn't know what to say because I barely understood what he meant.

"What?"

"I mean, he might be a keeper. No one makes you that nervous. You must really like him," Toby explained. "Anyway, I'll call you tomorrow."

"Okay," I whispered, replacing the receiver. I chewed on my bottom lip nervously. I was afraid to turn around and find Jareth in full Goblin King Regalia. I simply stared at the phone, unsure of what to do next. Could I actually be wrong? I turned slowly to find Jareth exactly as I had left him. There was no wild hair, no shockingly tight pants, no over the top waistcoats – he was just Jareth Knightly. Maybe I was wrong.

"Your brother?" he asked. I jumped at the sound of his voice and peered at him warily.

"How did you know?" I asked suspiciously. Jareth shrugged.

"I suppose it's the way you spoke with him. Plus, you don't really strike me as the kind of girl who chats on the phone a lot."

He smiled at me, but all I could see was the cold smirk of the Goblin King, a man who had set out to distract me from my mission. Was he distracting me now? His face dropped when he saw that I was not responding to his smile. He stood up and moved towards me.

"Sarah," he started. He reached for my face and I flinched involuntarily. I looked up into his face quickly, expecting him to be angry or cruel. Instead, I found that his eyes had grown so tremendously sad. It broke my heart to see him look so miserable, and I found that Goblin King or no, I wanted to apologize. I didn't get the chance – he had already lowered his head down to kiss me. The kiss was so soft, so easy. His hands were on either side of my face, barely touching my skin and the effect was electric. He kissed me hesitantly, as though he expected me to push him away but could not bear the thought of such an action. The pressure on my lips was delicate, just the right amount to plant that seed of pleasure within me. The kiss said what I would not have accepted in words. The kiss told me that he loved me.

When we finally broke apart, which felt like an eternity, a question came to my lips.

"Did you know?" I asked, suddenly and unstoppably. Jareth searched my eyes with his intense gaze. I had to remind myself to breathe as I waited for his answer. I dreaded the answer; either way it went, I dreaded it. He looked away from me and swallowed. There was nothing cruel in his demeanour, nothing that would suggest that he wished me harm. And then he did something I've never seen him do, but that I do often – he bit his bottom lip in thought. He turned his eyes back to my face and paused before answering.

"No," he replied simply and clearly.

Now I wasn't sure if he knew what I had asked him. It was very difficult for me to voice what I was asking in a more concise manner without the words 'goblin' and 'king'. I just stared at him for a moment longer, unable to create a coherent sentence that would voice what I needed to say. Jareth gave me that look again, the look he had given me in the limo, that look as though I were a foolish child. If I was right, in his terms I would be a child.

"Sarah," he started. His tone made me blanch. I suddenly became very cold and my muscles tightened reflexively. I was afraid to move, but I wanted to run. My foggy memories terrified me. What if he was here for revenge? Even worse, what if he wasn't? He had been watching me the whole time I had been having this mental battle.

"We have a history," I said softly, trying to get a feel for what he thought I had been asking.

"So it would seem," he replied dryly, giving me a tired look.

"Why are you here?" I asked, my muscles loosening ever so slightly. The fact that he had answered my question without any malice calmed me a bit. Before me I saw Jareth Knightly, a man I was clearly falling for – if I hadn't fallen for him already. Although it was difficult, I tried to focus on this persona. What made it more difficult was that I now had the knowledge that Jareth Knightly and Jareth the Goblin King were one and the same. I tried not to think about that for several reasons. Mostly, I tried not to think about it because it would break my heart if he would just up and leave.

"I'm not sure. Sarah, let me ask you something," he said quite calmly. "How clear are your memories?"

I thought about the question for a moment. They were, in fact, still quite fuzzy although they were becoming clearer as we talked.

"Not very," I said. I was starting to feel like myself again. I wasn't afraid of him, he was Jareth Knightly. I was only as afraid of _him _as I had ever been.

"It's the same for me," he said, watching me with those strange eyes of his.

"So," I started, diverting my eyes to the hem of my jeans, "What do you remember?"

Jareth didn't answer right away, and eventually I dragged my eyes away from my jeans to see what he was doing. Much to my chagrin, he was laughing at me.

"What?" I asked hotly. Jareth Knightly flirted with me shamelessly, but it was the Goblin King who riled me to anger. He shook his head in response, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Let's just say those sketches of yours are _very _familiar."

I swallowed slowly. It was very weird. He was practically admitting to being the Goblin King and I was still completely comfortable. I stared at him for a moment before speaking again. I chewed on my bottom lip for a minute, before realizing that I was. I stopped the action immediately and asked the only question that I could, given the situation.

"Now what?"

Jareth stared at me, his expression unreadable. Finally, he shook his head, at a loss. "I don't know," he replied truthfully. I stared at the mugs on my coffee table.

"More cocoa?" I offered weakly. Jareth's face broke into an easy smile and I felt myself relax more. So what if he was the Goblin King who took my baby brother all those years ago? As long as Toby stays the hell away until I figure out what's going on, _I_ would be fine. I mean it's not everyday you can claim to be dating a king – oh wait, _secretly_ dating a _goblin _king. I grabbed the mugs and turned to go back to my tiny kitchen. I stopped in my tracks, however, when Jareth spoke.

"Is this real?"

His voice was little more than a whisper, edged with the kind of muted, but raw pain only experienced with deep longing. I don't know if it was his words or his tone, or the whole thing together, but I could feel tears welling in the corner of my eyes. I blinked a few times to regain control before turning my face towards him with a wide smile.

"Of course this is real, Jareth. If this wasn't real, I would be living in a castle instead of a shoddy, second-rate, one-bedroom apartment on the ground floor of a tiny townhouse," I replied playfully.

He seemed to relax into the couch a bit, gazing at me with a tiny, but contented smile.

"You could still," he said smugly, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Well, that was better. I certainly wasn't willing to have a mope-fest tonight. I turned around fully to face him, and if my hands had not been full I would have placed them on my hips.

"We've only been on two dates," I reminded him.

"Two and a half," he responded smartly. "And, let us not forget that I took up at least thirteen hours of your time prior to those."

I rolled my eyes at him. "That would _hardly_ constitute quality time, Jareth."

And with that, I turned and headed back into the kitchen. I couldn't believe myself. I had just flirted with the Goblin King. What was this world coming to? Honestly. I smiled to myself. I had flirted with the Goblin King and I _liked_ it. I had so many questions. I started to wonder how long I would be able to keep him here. Maybe I could keep him all night. My smile widened.


	11. The Trouble with Self Preservation

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Labyrinth or any of the characters associated with the film. They are the property of the Jim Henson Company.

**AN: Oh, you're all so eager :D There's about four chapters left after this one. Enjoy. :D**

I returned with more cocoa and stood for a moment, trying to decide where best to sit. I could feel Jareth watching me, and I caught him shifting his position on the couch in my peripheral. I looked at him straight on to find that he had moved over for me. He raised his eyebrows at me and glanced at the space beside him. I gave him a wry smile, but then decided that it might be best for me to sit there after all. I was mildly uncomfortable with the idea, but it also felt quite right. I sat next to him, eyeing him warily. His expression was so unreadable. We stared at each other for a long. My head was swimming with a thousand ideas, but I couldn't shake the most prominent thought. I broke eye contact.

"Do you hate me?" I asked. My voice cracked with emotion. Why wouldn't he? I remembered his words so clearly now: _Everything I've done, I've done for you._ It had been so true. I hadn't realized it while it was happening, but I had been so selfish. Take my brother away – give him back. Give my dreams so I can throw them back in my face. The more I thought about it, the more mortified I became. Was he here for revenge? Because, really, who could blame him after that?

I refused to look up and I fully acknowledged my cowardice. I was surprised to feel his fingers under my chin, gently tilting my head upwards. I raised my eyes to meet his hesitantly. His is eyes were so intense; I almost wanted to look away but found that I wasn't able to at all. Without saying a word, he dragged his thumb over my bottom lip, dragging it down my chin before sliding his hand along my jaw line and over my ear, finally burying it in my hair. I watched in nervous anticipation as his eyes moved from mine to my lips. I didn't know that it was possible for anyone to make me feel this way. The way his eyes focused on my face made me feel so much desire. He was wrong for me, wasn't he? He would only hurt me, right? At long length he spoke.

"To hate you would be a crime against my very nature, Sarah. To say that I hate you would be the master of all lies," he whispered. The sound of those words coming from his lips in hushed tones sent a horrifying thrill through me. I suddenly forgot that he was so wrong for me. He raised his eyes to mine again. "I have never loved anything more."

I really had nothing to say at this point. How does one respond to that? I had spent my childhood and my adolescence wishing that the wicked Goblin King would love me. I had wished that he would give me special powers, but more than that _I_ had wanted to be the one to tame him. My desire to save my baby brother had been driven by fear then. I had barely heard his words, barely acknowledged them. He had offered me everything I had ever wanted, but I had thrown it back without a thought. I remembered now how I had put away everything that I had which reminded me of him. I had put on a smiling face and partied with the inhabitants of the labyrinth, hoping against hope that the Goblin King might make an appearance. He hadn't. I decided then and there that I would forget him. Of course, that had been made easy with my father's first heart attack. By the second I had convinced myself that it had never happened at all. It had been a dream. Life took over from there. I had to raise Toby and dreams became a luxury that I couldn't afford.

I opened my mouth to say something, but what I was going to say I didn't know. Fortunately I was saved by Jareth's lips against mine. This kiss was sweet, soft, and short. He broke the kiss to rub his nose against mine and rest his forehead against mine. There was something so natural and so intimate about the gesture.

"Are," I hesitated. Was this a subject I should be asking now? "Are you human?"

I could hear him laugh at my question, that silky chuckle reverberating through our contact.

"Well, what do you think?"

"Uh…no?"

He laughed again. "To be honest, I'm not sure what I am right now."

"So…what about before?"

"No."

"No?"

"Well, I was the King of the Goblins, Sarah. Goblins."

I drew away from him immediately, my mouth falling open in surprise.

"You're a goblin?"

At this, he threw his head back and laughed fully. "No," he answered finally, "But, I wasn't human either."

I stared at him again, drinking in his appearance. It was different from before. Less dramatic, less untamed. He could be human…even he didn't know. I closed my eyes tightly at once. I was letting myself rationalize everything that was wrong with this situation. I was setting myself up for pain. I pulled away from him quickly and tried to ignore his confused expression.

"This won't work," I said, plainly.

"What? Sarah…," he responded, almost pleadingly.

"You'll just leave. Right? You'll just find out why you're here and leave."

The words burst forth from me before I could stop them, but the truth was the very idea of this broke my heart. I hadn't really realized it, but I had stood up from the couch. I was standing there, denying the tears that desperately needed to flow and balling my fists at my sides. I was one step away from ordering him out so that I could cry by myself. Jareth tilted his head, watching me silently.

"Sarah, you won't solve anything by running away. Talk with me. I assure you that, if given the choice, I would rather live and die here with you than exist for an eternity alone as the Goblin King. Whatever happens, I won't leave your side."

I couldn't stop them now, those tears. I don't know when it happened, but the next thing I remembered was Jareth's arms around me, holding me so tightly. He was leading me somewhere. It finally dawned on me where we were after a moment. He sat me down on my bed, stroking my hair soothingly. I remember him whispering in my ear. For some reason the tears just wouldn't stop. It was as though I had locked _everything_ away for the last eighteen years and a floodgate had just been released. I clung to Jareth, soaking his shirt with my tears and he sat with me patiently. Finally, when I had felt that I had no more tears to shed, I choked back sobs and lay down. I wanted to stay that way forever, with Jareth near me, soothing me. It had been a long time since I had anyone to soothe my fears. I started to fall asleep even though there were still so many questions to ask. I felt the bed shift as Jareth stood up to leave and I reached out for his hand desperately.

"Please don't leave," I whispered hoarsely. I could barely see his face, but I knew he was smiling.

"I would never," he said softly.

"Please, can you stay with me tonight?" I asked. I couldn't believe I had asked it, but the thought of him leaving me alone even tonight was just too much. "Please."

"Certainly," he said. His tone was something I can't quite describe, something between kindness and restraint. Perhaps I was asking too much of him, but I was still quite selfish after all. He climbed into bed beside me, wrapping his arms around me. I revelled in his warmth and his scent. There was something different about it now – as though the memories had been overpowering _his_ scent before. I couldn't quite place it, but it was wonderful. He rested his cheek against mine and began humming. The song was familiar and somewhat frightening to me, but with his arms around me I knew that nothing could touch me now. With a feeling like that, there was no reason for me to deny sleep any longer.

When I awoke, there was this wonderful smell invading my nostrils. It was some magnificent combination of cinnamon and freshly fallen rain. Wherever it was coming from was warm and soft. It made me smile involuntarily. Then I realized that the warmth was coming from Jareth and the softness was his shirt. God, he smelled so good. I could just eat him up. Of course, self preservation kicked in and I was rudely reminded that Mr. Knightly was, in fact, the Goblin King. I opened my eyes slowly and pushed away from him even more slowly. I looked up at his face to find that he was still asleep. His face, with that untameable handsomeness, looked so very innocent in sleep. Not at all like a child, but very vulnerable. It was hard to believe that he was the Goblin King as I watched him sleep.

Without warning his eyes opened and I surprised to see that he looked sleepy. I don't know why that surprised me, but it did. I smiled slightly because I couldn't help myself.

"Sarah," he mumbled sleepily. Then it happened. I don't know what I was thinking, he was the _Goblin King._ But, my hand acted of its own volition – running my fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes at the touch of my hand. Something felt very right about this whole situation. Waking up with him beside me, bathed in sunlight and sharing a comfortable moment of silence. I had fallen, I realized, and I had fallen hard. I watched him as I continued to run my fingers through his hair until he opened his eyes again to peer at me.

"Do you have plans today?" he asked hopefully. I couldn't help but smile again at his tone. Really? Jareth Knightly was Jareth the Goblin King? How could I have been so wrong about him?

"Not really," I shrugged. "I was thinking about doing grocery shopping, but it can wait."

"No," he said softly. "We can do that. I mean, if you'll let me stay."

My smile widened and I felt tears coming again. Everything was too perfect; I had to keep reminding myself that he was the Goblin King. Things could still go very wrong. But, it was the fact that he was the Goblin King of years past that had allowed us this sort of familiarity. The idea was ludicrous, after all we had never been _friends_ while I had traipsed through his labyrinth but there was some indefinable connection between us. I don't know that I would have allowed Mr. Knightly to stay otherwise.

"Sure, if you want to," I said tentatively. I watched him as he lounged, unwilling to get out of bed yet. "Can I ask you something?"

"Already? Sarah, I've only just awoken," he replied, but there was a roguish grin on his face as he said it. He looked at me expectantly, but I wasn't sure how to word the question.

"I…well…I wanted to know….I mean," I started, incoherently.

"You wanted to know?" he prompted, eyebrows raised.

"Well, how are you Mr. Knightly?"

"I'm quite well," he replied, smirking. I gave him _the look_.

"You know what I meant."

"Sarah, I'm not clear on the details yet. I have memories of being born to the Knightly family and raised in England, yet these memories seem to coincide with having been the Goblin King. Nothing seems to make sense at the moment. I'm sorry."

I shook my head. "No, that's okay. I just…wondered."

Jareth smiled. "Let's not worry about it today. If we're meant to know, then it will come to us, I'm sure."

I nodded and smiled. It seemed to make such wonderful sense. Why rush it?

"Okay," I said, "Shall I make breakfast? How does His Majesty like his eggs done?"

Jareth rolled his eyes at me. "Scrambled, please, Kitchen Wench."

I narrowed my eyes at him before whacking him in the head with a pillow. Then I promptly ran from the room giggling. The day passed in a similar, easy fashion. We joked, we laughed - we behaved as if neither of us were ever aware that we shared a common, very strange past. At the end of the day, Jareth walked me back to my apartment. It seemed odd to have to part but against acceptable social terms to invite him in for yet another night. As we stood at my door, I found myself fidgeting. Fidgeting. Can you believe it?

"Sarah," Jareth said, his voice a quiet caress on my soul. My eyes shot up to his. The expression on his face was simply unreadable and a little too serious. "Knowing what we now know, I feel…"

I didn't give him a chance to finish his sentence because I knew what he was going to say. The fact that he cared enough about me to say it was all that I had ever needed. I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him to me, pressing my lips against his. I have to admit the kiss was smouldering. The added height I had by standing on the ledge of the doorway combined with his standing a step down from the main landing was what really made the move work. We were nearly at equal heights in this position.

I pulled back slowly, my hands still on his collar, and I looked him in the eye. To be honest, I kind of liked the odd mixture of lust and confusion that I found in them.

"You don't have to ask my permission, Jareth," I said. The confusion cleared from his eyes and a dangerous smirk spread across his face. My heart skipped a beat because before me I saw the Goblin King.

"Well, in the case," he growled, winking at me before pulling my head down into another heated kiss. It was dizzying, the effect he had on me. When he finally let me go, I leaned heavily on the doorframe. If I hadn't, I would have collapsed.

"Good night, Sarah," Jareth said, his smirk muted with blatant amusement at my current state.

"Good night," I managed to croak out. I turned to put my key in the door.

"Oh, Sarah," Jareth called back. I turned around with a questioning look in my eyes. "In two weeks, there will be a gala event for the launch of the television advertising campaign. Will you come to it?"

I smiled warmly, "Of course."

"No, I suppose I worded it incorrectly. Would you come to it _with me_?" He asked.

"Oh," I said in surprise. That would be acknowledging our relationship to the firm. It was very risky business. "I'm not sure that it's such a good idea."

"You're worried about the firm?"

"Well, yes," I answered plainly. There was no point in dancing around it.

"Sarah, they can't fire you at that point. You're a main lead on the project; firing you after it was launched would be a huge mistake on the part of the firm. At that point, they'll be so concerned with keeping me as a client, they won't want to rock the boat by doing anything to you. So, will you?"

I stared at him for a moment. I didn't like the sound of what he had just said to me – like I was his arm candy. As though the firm would only keep me on just because I was involved with him. I frowned at him.

"What?" he asked, his expression suddenly puzzled.

"Nothing," I said crisply. Jareth's shoulders slumped visibly.

"Sarah, that isn't what I meant," he said smoothly. "I only meant that, well, we have to do it at some point anyway. Why not when they're less interested?"

"Who says we have to do anything at all?" I asked. My tone was becoming more acidic as I spoke. What was I doing? I was ruining a perfectly lovely day by taking offence to some business-oriented comment. But, I wasn't business and I didn't appreciate being treated like I was.

"Sarah," Jareth said beseechingly. He was giving me that look again. I stopped myself from full-out pouting.

"We'll see, Jareth. A lot can happen in two weeks."

What the hell was I saying? My God, I'm an idiot! Oh well, it was too late now. Jareth frowned at me, his brow furrowed. It was strange to see him standing on my sidewalk, gazing at me with a frown. He looked so human, so real. I swallowed hard. What if he wasn't? What if he _would _just up and leave at any given moment? What if…? I had to stop with the 'what ifs'. I could go on forever at that rate.

"That's true," he sighed resignedly. "Well then, until we meet again, Sweet Sarah."

My mouth opened to say something, but nothing came out. I watched his back disappear into the darkness and I felt like crying now more than ever. Why couldn't I keep my tongue at bay? Damn my self-preservation.


	12. The Trouble with Confessions

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Labyrinth or any of the characters associated with the film. They are the property of the Jim Henson Company.

**AN: FLUFF ALERT!!!!!! ding ding ding FLUFF! Ah, and a little bit of important plot. Bwa bwa bwaaaaaa. ;)**

I tossed myself into bed and threw my pillow over my head. It took me a moment to realize that my forehead was resting against something hard. I lifted my head to see what the object was only to find that cursed little book again. I swore at it under my breath and then it occurred to me that it had certainly not been in my bedroom last night. It had been in my living room. I rushed down the hallway to the living room to find that the book was no longer there. I frowned. Normally I would have brushed it off as my having moved it and then forgetting that I moved it, but I knew better. Things were not always as they seemed. I was under the impression that the book wanted to be re-read and so I decided to oblige.

The first time I read the book, I merely skimmed the pages, looking for something to stand out. Nothing did. The second time I read it was like becoming reacquainted with an old friend; memories came rushing back without biases. What I had thought was malicious behaviour by the Goblin King when I was fifteen had actually been more than fair, and my blatant refusal of his proposal was just plain cruel. The third time I read the book, I read it meticulously. I read each line over and over, looking for a clue. What was it that this damn book wanted me to know? At this point, having found nothing of interest in the text and still being upset about the way I treated Jareth when he left today, I threw the book against my closet door. I glanced at my bedside clock: 2 a.m. I groaned internally, reminding myself that I was no spring chicken anymore. I ran my hand through my hair and crawled off of the bed to pick up the book.

"What the hell am I supposed to find in here, book?" I muttered as I flipped through the pages once more. The lines were all the same! I frowned miserably and threw myself face down onto my bed. After a suitable moping period, I tried to read it again. As I flipped through the pages, I realized that one page in particular had become dog-eared, likely when I had thrown the book. I flipped to the page to flatten out the sheet and skimmed over the contents. I laughed dismissively. Of course: _But what no one knew was that the King of the Goblins had fallen in love with the girl and given her certain powers._ The power of waitressing for life! Thanks, Jareth!

I closed my eyes in frustration, ready to just go to sleep, when I realized what the book wanted me to read. _That_ line wasn't supposed to be there. I opened my eyes and re-read the page again. I'm not sure if it was just my tired eyes, or the fact that I was right, but those words seemed darker on the page, as though added in many years after the original text was printed. _I_ had made that line up. It had never been in the original text. It had been the product of my overactive, excessively romantic teenage mind. But, here it was in black and white, glaring me in the face.

I stared at the line for a little longer before growling in frustration and throwing myself back down on the bed. Sure, I figured out what was different, but what the hell did that mean? Had _I_ changed the story? Was the story always supposed to be like that? Had Jareth really been in love with my ridiculous fifteen-year old self? If so, I sincerely felt sorry for him. But, I was an entirely different person then than I am now, and I get the distinct feeling that he's more than a little fond of me. And, what about the whole Mr. Knightly thing? I mean, he claims not to know anything, but how could he be up here? What happened to the Goblin Kingdom? And, if he didn't remember anything, then how did we find each other again? Was this fate? Destiny? I closed my eyes and sighed deeply. I had to get some sleep; anymore of this and I would be completely mad by morning.

I looked in the mirror Sunday morning, and after noting the dark circles under my eyes, I stared at my face for a while. What was it about me that would make a Goblin King in love with me? I pushed my cheeks around and frowned. I can admit that I am quite pretty, I suppose. I tried to decide whether I liked my appearance better now or when I was younger. I came to the conclusion that the years hadn't been all that unkind to me and that I was clearly much better looking than I had been in the past. Then I left the mirror before I changed my mind again.

It was snowing outside but I decided to go for a walk, regardless. I couldn't stand being in my apartment. My frustration was still raw from the night before; I just needed to get out of there. I threw on my coat and rushed out the door. It was a little colder than I had expected, so I pulled the collar of my coat up and jammed my hands into my pockets. I didn't know where I was going, but I really wanted to get away from that book. I tried really hard not to think of Jareth, but as you can imagine, it was difficult. The gala. The real problem with it was that in going with Jareth, I was not only admitting that we were a couple to the firm, I was also admitting it to myself. I wasn't quite sure if I was ready for that yet, especially knowing, or better yet – _not_ knowing – that Jareth was once the Goblin King.

A cold wind swept around me causing me to bury deeper in my collar. I wasn't really paying attention because I clumsily walked into someone while I was carrying out the action. I popped my head out of my coat, much like a turtle coming out its shell, to apologize only to find myself staring at a most irate looking Mr. Knightly. We blinked at each other for a moment. Recognition swam up into his eyes followed by an easy smile.

"H-hello," I stuttered. I felt really awful about the manner in which I saw him off yesterday.

"Sarah," he said warmly. It was quite strange, but standing in the cold wind and hearing his voice seemed to warm me up from the inside. The time to apologize was now.

"I…," we both started, simultaneously. We laughed. I looked at him and smiled shyly.

"You first," I said quickly, knowing that he was about to say the same.

"Sarah," he started, his face suddenly serious. "The way we parted last night wasn't…well, it just wasn't quite right. And, I woke up this morning with this need to see you and make sure that we're still on good terms."

I smiled because of the way he spoke those last few words. He was beating around the bush, getting a feel for how I regarded our 'relationship'.

"I really wanted to apologize," I said automatically. "I just…it was a lot to take in, and I'm so used to having my guard up around," I paused, smiling sheepishly, "men. I guess…I just…"

I stopped to roll my eyes at myself. Was I still fifteen on the inside? Honestly. I squared my shoulders and looked him in the eye.

"I'm afraid that this isn't real. I'm even more afraid that it is."

Jareth gazed at me intently, but said nothing. "I'm in love with you," he said plainly. I was a little shocked by his frankness. "And, I think I always have been. But, _this_," he said, gesturing to us standing here on the sidewalk, in the middle of the winter, "this is something _different_ from before."

He looked contemplative, as though trying to ascertain the meaning behind his own words. He looked at me again. "I fell in love with you all over again, but this time I fell in love with _you_. Not the _idea_ of you."

I was speechless. I mean, really, what do you say to that? After a moment's pause, I decided that I should maybe respond in some way. I looked at my feet, at the tree beside me, at Jareth's shoes, and then finally at his face.

"Love," I mumbled. Jareth smiled and laughed slightly.

"It seems a little fast, I imagine."

"A little. But…it kind of seems…_right_."

"I'm not asking for a confession, Sarah." And yet there was something in his tone that was daring me to make one. I lifted my chin in defiance and he smirked automatically.

"Come to the gala with me." It wasn't a request this time, and yet I was so compelled to oblige.

"Alright, but I'm paying," I said turning around to head back home and holding my hand out behind me to take his.

"Okay, but it's an open bar," he said dryly as he gently gripped my hand.

"Oh, right. Well…I meant that if it wasn't, I would be paying."

I only received a snort in response; my lot in life.

The next week passed rather quickly. I barely had time to think about the gala since we were so busy making the finalizations on the ads to be featured at said gala. Lethal Lucie, as I like to call her, was on my case minutely, raging about this or that, insisting that I put _her_ words a quarter of an inch too far to the left. At the end of each day I looked forward to putting my feet up and just _being_. Apparently Jareth was rather busy himself with preparations because I didn't hear from him until Saturday.

The phone was ringing shrilly in my ear and I cursed at it as I sleepily reached out from under my warm duvet.

"M'hallo?" I mumbled into the receiver, while sleepily trying to focus my eyes on my clock. Seven a.m. on a Saturday? Who does that?

"Hello, Princess," a rich velvety voice poured into my ears.

"Erg," I muttered incoherently into the receiver. "Jareth."

"Well," he laughed, "That sounds welcoming."

"Do you know what time it is?" I asked peevishly.

"Seven-oh-five," he replied smartly.

"And, why would you call me at such a hideous hour, Jareth? This better be good."

"I just wanted to hear your voice, Sunshine."

"Sweet. Couldn't you have waited until, oh, say eight-oh-five? Or, better yet, nine-oh-five?"

"No, actually I couldn't have. Actually, I'm calling from the airport, Sarah," his voice unexpectedly serious.

"Oh?" I asked, genuinely interested. Where the hell was he going?

"Yes, I have to head over to England. Apparently I've inherited…_something_ from _someone_."

He sounded perplexed and his vague explanation confused me.

"Something from someone?" I repeated.

"Yes, well, that's all they will tell me over the phone. Apparently whatever it is from whoever it is from must be handled in person. I imagine that it isn't monetary."

"Ah," I said, still slightly confused. "Is it from a family member?"

"I'm not sure, to be honest," he replied. I could hear the intercom blaring away in the background. "Ah, I have to board now. I will call you as soon as I am back in town."

"Oh, okay," I said, trying to hide my disappointment. I had been hoping to see him this weekend, maybe clarify my feelings a little further. I was still thrown a bit about the fact that he was, oh, you know…the _Goblin King._

"Sarah," he said suddenly.

"Yes?"

"I love you." I don't know if it was the incredibly warm feeling that I received at that moment from his words, or the fact that I was not quite awake yet, but the words just came tumbling out of my mouth without any hope of stopping.

"I love you, too."

My heart started hammering as soon as they had exited my mouth. I could hear his shock over the phone in the fact that he was struck speechless. Really, in actuality all I could hear over the phone was the second call for first class seating on flight 423 to London, England.

"I…um…," I heard in an accented mumble.

"Jareth," I said, coolly confident despite the fact that my heart was hammering through my chest. "You're going to miss your flight."

"Ah, yes," he said, sounding more like himself. So he could dish it, but he couldn't take it? I found this amusing and it served to calm my pounding heart a bit. He had vulnerabilities, too.

"Until I return, then," he said softly.

"Take care," I returned. As soon as the phone clicked signalling that he had hung up, I dropped my head into my pillow and sighed. I couldn't believe that I had actually said that I loved him. Had I lied? My heart started hammering again as I realized that I certainly had not lied. Not even a little bit. Not even at all. Although the weekend was excruciatingly dull in comparison, I did everything with a song in my heart and a smile on my face.


	13. The Trouble with Tempers

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Labyrinth or any of the characters associated with the film. They are the property of the Jim Henson Company.

**AN: ANGST ALERT!!!!!! ding ding ding ANGST! It can't all be roses… Sorry it's so short… There are two left and the last one is exceedingly long, but there's no real way to break it into smaller pieces.**

There was still a smile on my face the following Monday. Although the office was bustling with nervous energy, I happily lounged in my chair, clicking away at my computer. Roger came rushing to my desk, sweat dripping off his balding head.

"Sarah, I just wanted to let you know that we have a meeting with Mr. Knightly tomorrow at nine. If you have any alterations to make, I suggest you complete them by then."

With that he disappeared again, rushing off to harass Lucie, no doubt. I smiled warmly at my glaring computer monitor. A meeting with Jareth first thing tomorrow morning meant one thing and one thing only: he was either back in town already or would be tonight. My heart raced a bit as I happily contemplated that he may be calling me tonight. It had been over a week since I'd seen him last and I missed his ever present smirk and flirtatious banter. God, did I miss it. I worked hard that day, harder than I had in a while. The entire time I was correcting miniscule details on my drawings I thought of his strange eyes and lopsided grin. Man, I had it bad.

As soon as five o'clock hit, I was out of there! I rushed home and all but waited by the phone. And, waited. Eventually I trudged off to bed, still high on anticipation. Perhaps his flight was delayed, or he was forced to take a flight touching down in the early morning. It didn't matter, really; I would see him in the morning.

The next morning I took a little extra care getting ready. I swept my hair up and away from my face and applied a modest amount of make-up. I decided on a pair of fitted black dress pants and a deep red blouse that showed just the right amount of skin to be both appealing and work-safe. I smiled at my reflection before leaving the apartment. I was so excited to see Jareth, probably more excited than I should have been considering this was supposed to be a hidden relationship. Even the fact that the bus was ten minutes late couldn't bring me down. I could just see them all waiting in the boardroom for me, Jareth cracking jokes and making easy conversation to buy me time.

However, I couldn't have been more wrong. The person who was most irritated and stone-faced in that room was, in fact, Jareth Knightly. He all but sighed as I came rushing into the room. The smile that had been permanently plastered on my face for days now came crumbling down as I saw his expression. I suddenly felt like a fifteen year old girl running desperately through a labyrinth to save her brother from a cold king.

"I'm so sorry," I said, my voice falling to practically a whisper.

"Well, now that Miss Williams has graced us with her presence, shall we start?" Jareth asked. His voice was not playful. In fact, it was downright cold and mocking. I refused to look at Lucie who was undoubtedly enjoying the fact that Jareth hadn't jumped to my rescue this time.

As the meeting progressed, I realized that Jareth wouldn't look at me. Just three days ago he was telling me he loved me, and now he wouldn't even look at me? What had happened in England? At first I was confused, wondering if I had done something wrong. After discerning that this wasn't a possibility, I started to worry. What was going on? Finally, when I had my chance to present, he looked at me – with disinterest. Even though we had been hiding our "relationship", he had always held a sort of twinkle in his eye for me. A private little hint that despite his business-like demeanour, he was still _my_ Mr. Knightly. That twinkle was not in his eye today.

"The colouring is wrong," he snapped shortly in the middle of my presentation. I was more than a little surprised by his cold, sharp manner of speaking. From the look on Roger's face, I wasn't the only one. I breathed in slowly and calmly although my heart was beating faster than it had in quite some time.

"I'm sorry," I said coolly, "How would you like me to correct that?"

"I don't know, Miss Williams. I believe that's _your_ job," he replied, twirling his pen absently. He seemed quite distracted, and for the first time since our meeting, it wasn't by me.

"Mr. Knightly," I said coldly. I think that the temperature in the room may have dropped a few degrees. "In order for me to satisfactorily carry out my job, I need a little direction from my client." _I'm not a mind reader_, I muttered to myself internally.

Jareth stared at me intensely, clenching his jaw in silent fury. His eyes burned as though he was just looking for a fight. There was something animalistic and feral in his mannerisms this morning. I didn't like it as a person, but to be honest it was…exciting…as a woman. Before Jareth had a chance to retort, Roger stood up to play the mediator.

"I can see that everyone is under a lot of stress right now, what with the gala coming up," he interjected, attempting to keep his voice bright. Both Jareth and I turned to face him. I've always read in books about people having 'flashing' eyes when they're angry. If eyes could flash, I'm sure mine were flashing right now. Jareth seemed angrier that our argument had been cut short. So, he wanted to argue with me, did he? I hope he knew that he wouldn't win against me. The confusion and worry were completely overridden now. I was _pissed_. How dare he disappear for some mystery inheritance and come back with a chip on his shoulder directed at me!

"I'm sure Sarah can do some tweaking on it, find something to your liking?" Roger suggested, still trying to keep the peace. Lucie was simply watching the whole ordeal with detached amusement. Jareth raised his eyes and gave me a silent snort. I glared at him, my temper rising rapidly.

"Maybe she can email it to you later today?" Roger continued, glancing at me. I was too busy setting fire to Jareth with my glare to notice.

"Certainly," I said slowly and icily. Jareth raised his eyes to mine and I found that he was equally angry. "If that's all, I have work to do."

"Far be it from me to prolong any pleasure of yours, Miss Williams," he replied frigidly. I narrowed by eyes at him and raised my chin. To hell with him!

I gathered my things up rapidly and stormed from the room. I sat at my desk for a moment, fighting a scream of frustration before opening the files up on my computer. I toyed with the idea of colouring every sketch bright green and sending them to him, but my better judgement won out on me. He may be my inexplicably angry lover, but he was also the client. Professionalism was key to my survival. Maybe I should have sent him some grey roses.

I stared at the first sketch, the gate to the labyrinth. I frowned. It felt as though my vision had cleared, or rather my memory had become clearer. The colouring _was_ wrong. I twitched my nose in irritation and my temper calmed considerably. At least he hadn't just been being an ass, but really, who besides he and I would know the difference? Regardless, I clicked away for hours, making tiny colour alterations and stamping out my raging anger. Don't get me wrong; I was still pissed at him, the rage levels were just lowered to work safe.

Roger avoided me for most of the day before calling me into his office just before five.

"Sarah, what the hell was that this morning?" he asked, concerned.

"He was unnecessarily cold to me," I answered sharply.

"He's the client, Sarah."

"That gives him the right to be an asshole?" I asked, my temper flaring again. Roger looked shocked and I instantly regretted my words. He regarded me for a moment before speaking again. I knew what he was going to ask.

"There's nothing going on between you two, is there?"

I snorted. I can't believe I was back to snorting. "Does it look like there is?" I asked viciously.

"To be quite honest," he started.

"Don't answer that," I said, regaining my senses. "I'm sorry, Roger. He just rubbed me the wrong way. Maybe I just got up on the wrong side of the bed today. It certainly seems he did."

Roger didn't look all that convinced, but he would buy the explanation for now. There were more important things for us to be worrying about right now.

"Go home and sleep on it," he said kindly, patting my shoulder. "We're all a little stressed."

I smiled lightly at his kindness. I think it was the first one I had on my face since this morning.

"Thanks, Roger."


	14. The Trouble with Misunderstandings

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Labyrinth or any of the characters associated with the film. They are the property of the Jim Henson Company.

**AN: Huh. So I realized that I probably wouldn't have time to post tomorrow. You're getting an early treat today! An extra snack!! Keep in mind that this is the second from last chapter…and you'll have to wait until Tuesday for the last chapter. Much love!!**

The next couple of days passed without any word from Jareth. The only contact I had with him was a one-line email response to the corrected sketches: _The colouring is adequate._ What the hell was that? The colouring was adequate? It took me all day and was _exactly_ as I remembered it, and it was _adequate_? If he thought for one second that I was going to come crawling to him to find out what his problem was, he had another thing coming. I'd lived a long time without love and I could do it again, if need be.

He hadn't called me by Thursday evening so I figured our little tryst was all but over. Maybe he was going back to the Underground. It would be better if he would do it quickly so that I could get on with my life. At this point, I supposed I was going to the gala alone. Hell, I was considering not going at all. As though on cue, there was a knock on my door. I frowned, wondering who it could be. As I reached the door I recognized a familiar silhouette. I rolled my eyes and sighed. Opening the door a crack, I concentrated on keeping my face ice cold. I said nothing.

"Sarah," he started, his face looking quite drawn and downright miserable. Still, I had to remain ice cold. No one treats me that way and gets away with it.

"What do you want?" I refused to open the door any further, glaring at him through the crack.

Jareth looked away as though annoyed that he had made me so angry. He gestured helplessly to a bag in his hand before speaking. "I wanted to drop this off."

I raised my eyebrows gazing at the bag suspiciously. "What is it?"

"A dress."

"A dress?" I repeated incredulously. "For what?"

"The gala, obviously," he said miserably.

"Oh? Well, that wasn't necessary. I'm not sure I'll even be attending."

Jareth gave me his famous 'you-are-such-a-child' look. "Be reasonable, Sarah."

My mouth gaped open in indignation. I couldn't say anything for a good ten seconds. Jareth rolled his eyes, clearly irritated. It was then that the words came out of my mouth as I flung the door open all the way. "What the _hell_ is your problem?"

"What?" he asked, looking around at people passing by on the sidewalk.

"You! You've been cold, and uncaring and…neglectful," I spat angrily, "Since you got back from England! And…and then you show up on my doorstep with a _dress_? What are you _thinking_?"

"Sarah," he said quietly, an annoyed look in his eyes.

"What?" I asked sharply. "This better be good, Jareth."

"Just take the dress," he said, holding it out. He started to tell me that he would pick me up, but I cut him short.

"No."

"What?"

"I said 'no'. I don't need it. And, I don't need you to pick me up. I'm going alone," I finished coolly.

"Sar-," he started with that awful, condescending tone of his.

"Stop," I commanded angrily, "Keep it."

I shook my head at him in disbelief and slammed the door.

"Sarah, don't be ridiculous," he called through the door. I didn't answer because I couldn't. I was so angry that tears were streaming down my face. I balled my hands into fists at my sides and leaned my back against the door. No one treats me that way and gets away with it. No one.

"Fine," he called through finally. "I'll see you there then."

I still was unable to reply, now holding one hand over my mouth to keep my sobs silent. After a long pause, his voice came through again, soft and apologetic.

"The colours _were_ wrong, Sarah."

I let out a frustrated yell. "Just _go_, Jareth!"

At long last I could hear his footfalls fading away. That's when I collapsed against my door, sliding down and crying hard. Eventually I managed to crawl off to bed in between sobs and cry myself to sleep. I was a woken the next day by a soft rapping at my door. I frowned miserably, hoping that it wasn't Jareth because I simply wasn't in the mood to argue. I cracked the door open and peered out. Luckily it was only Mrs. Bruit from the upstairs apartment.

"Hello, dear," she said warmly. "Sorry to wake you, but I was on my way out and I noticed this bag was left on your door knob."

She handed me the bag from Jareth and I fought to not roll my eyes. I couldn't believe that he had left it here.

"It looks expensive, dear," Mrs Bruit said with mild interest.

"Maybe," I said sleepily. "Thanks Mrs. Bruit."

"You're welcome, dear. Have a nice day!"

"You, too!"

I frowned as I watched her leave. I would definitely not be having a good day. After closing the door, I contemplated looking at the dress but then decided against it. I tossed the bag on my couch and got ready for work. It was going to be a long, likely frantic day. I grimaced at the thought of Lethal Lucie rushing around and panicking.

I made my way to work miserably. Fighting with Jareth was fruitless and pointless. I was in love with him, regardless of his cruel actions, but I couldn't give in. I just refuse to be treated that way. He had better apologize, or we really were over. I felt the sting of tears in the corner of my eyes as I stared out the window of the bus. I didn't want us to be over and I didn't want him to be angry with me without explanation. I wanted, desperately, to know what had happened in England that had returned him to me so aloof, distant, and cruel. I frowned, reminding myself that he was the Goblin King and perhaps some of his less amiable regal attributes were returning to him with his memories. I sincerely hoped that this wasn't true. You see, the trouble with Mr. Knightly isn't that he's the Goblin King. The trouble with Mr. Knightly was something far worse...

I made it to work without crying and with a definite chip on my shoulder. This time it was _me_ who was looking for a fight. I was just waiting for Lucie to say something to me that rubbed me the wrong way. Hell, I was just waiting for her to say _anything_ to me; I was out for blood. Unfortunately the first person I had come across wasn't Lucie, it was Roger. He took one look at my face and dragged me into his office.

"Sarah, are you alright?" he asked, peering into my face.

"Yeah, why?" I muttered.

"Your eyes are red…and kind of puffy," he said. I couldn't bear his scrutinizing gaze any longer so I glared at him angrily.

"So?"

"Maybe you should go home," he suggested, gently.

"I don't want to go home," I replied through gritted teeth. Roger frowned at me.

"Sarah, go home. You're clearly ill," he said somewhat forcefully.

"I am not! I have things to do!" I exclaimed moodily. "Tomorrow is the gala!"

"Your sketches have been approved by Underground Media." His deliberate avoidance of Mr. Knightly's name was not lost on me.

"Oh," I said, still looking for a fight internally. "Well, I can't afford to go home."

"Sarah," Roger started condescendingly. "I'm not giving you a choice. Go home sick. Do it voluntarily, because you won't like the alternative."

I stared at Roger, my mouth hanging open. On any other day I would have been quite proud of him for growing a spine, but today I was just incensed.

"Fine," I spat, grabbing my coat and storming out of the office.

"Get well soon!" he called behind me, his sarcasm hitting me hard.

I should have thanked him for not sending me home for other reasons, but I was too angry with the world to care. I rushed out of the building in a rage, and ran smack into someone.

"Sorry," I muttered miserably.

"Sarah?"

I looked up to see that I had run into Mr. Knightly, _again._ I had also spilled his coffee on his coat, his _Designer_ coat, _again!_ I let out an irritated sigh and started rummaging through my purse for a Kleenex.

"Do you do this on purpose? I mean, honestly!" I grumbled, dabbing at the coffee. "Maybe you should give up having coffee anywhere near this building."

"No," he said, a hint of _something_ in his voice. Was it amusement? He was amused by me again? "But, maybe I should as long as you're here."

I looked up at him and frowned. I didn't like the way that sounded. As long as you're here? Was he planning on removing me from here? I narrowed my eyes at him, finding his expression warm once again, but I could see the faint anger lurking just beneath. I don't know what his problem was, but if he was looking for a fight, I was willing to give it this time.

"Why are you here?" I asked irritably, finally coming back to reality.

"We have a meeting," he said, confused. "Where are you going? It starts in ten minutes."

"Apparently, I'm not needed there," I hissed. I was seething on the inside that Roger had sent me home. Now I knew the reason.

"No matter," Jareth shrugged, "The sketches are fine anyway."

I glared indignantly at his face. "Of course, now that the colouring is _adequate._"

"Sarah," he started while frowning at me. I could see the beginnings of that look of his and I was in no mood to be reminded that I was being childish.

"Have a _lovely_ meeting," I grumped, starting to walk away.

Jareth gripped my arm fiercely, spinning me back towards him brutishly. I was surprised, barely having a chance to become angry. His eyes searched my face feverishly before he caught my mouth in a frantic kiss. There was nothing soft or delicate about this kiss. This was kiss of raw need, taken by force. I would have been enraged with him had it not been for the sheer desperation I felt in the kiss. He was kissing me as though he would never see me again, as though this was the last time he'd ever kiss me.

It took a moment, but images of the labyrinth came to me. It was the first time since I had discovered that he was the Goblin King. But, these images weren't memories. At least, they certainly weren't memories of mine. There was chaos, destruction, and decay. The castle was in ruins, the hedge maze dead, and there was not a soul to be seen in the labyrinth. It broke my heart. When Jareth broke apart from me, there was a deep pain in his eyes. He tried to force a smile but found it quite impossible. Without a word he turned from me and headed for the building. I stood for a moment, dazed and then remembered that we had been standing directly in front of the firm. I could lose my job, but I was surprised to find that I didn't care.

I went home, my anger squelched. What had that vision been? Was that what the labyrinth looked like now? Why had Jareth kissed me like that? There were so many questions. Even though it was my policy not to call when I wasn't in the wrong, I felt that there was something far larger than our petty fight at stake here. I waited until five and then called his cell phone. As the phone rang, I was taken over by nervous anticipation. There was a click of acceptance, and then I realized that it was only his voicemail. I left a message:

"Hi, Jareth. Listen, I think this whole _thing _that's happened between us should probably end. Can you call me when you get this?"

By _thing_, I meant the fight we were having. It never even occurred to me that it could have been taken in a different way. If it had, I probably would have worded it differently. That being said, you can understand why Jareth didn't call me back. I tried to shrug it off because I would see him at the gala the next day. It was then that I remembered the bag on my couch. I looked in the bag and found a small envelope on top of the tissue paper. It was addressed to me in his lovely cursive. I opened it and read the note.

_Princess,_

_I am truly ashamed of my behaviour the other day. There is no real excuse for it except that I was looking for a fight and you were the most readily available target. Needless to say, I have been wracking my mind to come up with a suitable way to apologize to you. So far, I've come up with nothing. I am sorry, Sarah. My trip to England has proven to be most interesting. There are a number of things we must discuss. The preparations for the gala are, unfortunately, taking up a good deal of my time. I look forward to seeing you on Saturday, if you can find it in your heart to forgive me._

_Love, _

_Jareth_

_PS – Apparently I owe you the dress for having 'set the bar' so high on our first date._

I read the note several times unaware that there were tears streaming down my face. I could hear his smugness in the last post script, I could picture that lopsided grin, and it made me so angry with myself. Once again self-preservation and my vicious temper had conspired against me. I reached for the phone and punched his number frantically. He didn't pick up. What had I done this time? I decided that I would simply have to go to bed. There was no sense in going to the gala with dark circles under my eyes. I knew he would be there, I would just have to trap him somehow and make him speak with me. It could be done – where there's a will, there's a way.

I peered at the bag warily. I knew that a ridiculously expensive, absurdly perfect dress was waiting for me in that bag. I already felt guilty enough; I didn't want to feel worse. My brain and my heart had a quick discussion over this. _He_ pissed _me_ off. I had a right to be angry, regardless of fancily worded notes. I lifted my chin and reached for the bag. He wouldn't win me over with this dress. Not possible. I opened the tissue paper slowly, nervous about the perfection that waited beyond it.

The dress was black and floor length, certainly not what I was expecting. It secured around the neck in a jewelled choker which attached to the front of the dress. The back, in contrast, was rather low. Other than the choker, it was a strapless gown, cut to fit curves all the way down, flaring out slightly at the bottom. It was a serious dress for serious business. I wondered how I would look in it. There were no shoes this time, so imagined that my own, personal pair of black shoes would be just fine. I wasn't quite sure what to make of this dress. It was obviously lovely, but it was so _dark_, almost sinister. I think it was the nature of the dress that started me wondering about what exactly had happened in England once again. I shrugged it off and headed to bed. I'd worry about it tomorrow.


	15. The Trouble with Mr Knightly

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Labyrinth or any of the characters associated with the film. They are the property of the Jim Henson Company.

**AN: Last one! I hope you like it. Thanks to all my readers and reviewers. Your support is my fuel. :D**

Saturday was agonizingly slow-going. It didn't help that Jareth still hadn't returned my calls. I tried a few more times without any luck. I tried not be discouraged by his lack of response, although it was difficult. I decided I would wear his dress, despite insisting that I had no need of it before. Maybe it could act as a peace offering and he would speak to me again. I would have to wait and see. The nature of the dress was such that only sleek, pulled-back hair would do. I parted my hair on the side and pulled it into a low ponytail. I smiled lightly at my reflection. I looked far more sophisticated than I felt, especially now that I had to rummage through the phone book to find a cab company.

I was halfway through dialling the number when there was a rap at my door. Frowning, I opened it with the phone still in my hand. There was a man on my landing, neatly uniformed in a black suit.

"Ma'am," he said, nodding towards me. He handed me a small white envelope on which my name was scrawled in rather familiar cursive. I looked past the man on my porch to see a limo stretched down the length of the driveway. I gave the man a wary look before tearing open the envelope.

_Miss Williams,_

_I know you refused a ride when last we spoke of the gala, however I cannot imagine you arriving on a bus. Please accept this ride as a parting gift, seeing as you wish to end this 'thing' that's happened between us. Rest assured I will be arriving by other means._

_Sincerely,_

_J. Knightly_

I frowned at the note and then frowned at the man.

"Jareth's not in there?" I asked, slightly confused.

"No, Ma'am. Mr. Knightly is arriving to the gala by other means. He said that I was to drive you anywhere you pleased this evening," the man replied politely.

"Odd," I muttered.

I read the note over again. A 'parting gift'? What on earth was he talking about? And, what was with the formality? I felt very much like I had missed something somewhere. I glanced at the man again who was patiently awaiting my command.

"Well, I suppose this beats a cab."

The man merely smiled and led the way to the limo. It was lonely to sit in the back of a limo. I wondered if Jareth felt this lonely when arriving to functions in a limo. Who was I kidding? He probably never arrived anywhere alone. With the odd tone of his note, I began to wonder if I would find that he had not arrived alone to the gala. I shook it off reminding myself that he loved me. Whatever this strange mood swing of his was, it was only a small bump in the road of happiness. I contented myself with such thoughts until we arrived at the gala. The kind man, whose name I learned was Sebastian, opened the door for me.

"I'll be parked around back, Miss Williams. Whenever you're ready to leave," he said.

"Thank you, Sebastian. And, please, call me Sarah."

Sebastian nodded and smiled warmly, "As you wish, Miss Williams."

I rolled my eyes at him and smiled before turning and heading towards the gala. I took a deep breath when I realized where I was going. I stifled a snort, having had enough of them during the past two months to last me a lifetime. It seemed that although I had just left school, I could not escape it. The gala was being held in Harvard's Memorial Hall. I found the contrast of the High Victorian Gothic architecture with modern day media highly amusing and ironic. It seemed exactly the type of thing Jareth would do for his own entertainment's sake: combine the old with new, shake and add a little umbrella for good measure.

I smiled ruefully and allowed my eyes to scan the hall for any sign of that familiar smirk, maybe a beige suit, perhaps a glint of platinum hair. I was wondering aimlessly amongst a sea of unfamiliar faces. Most of the guests were of Underground Media employ or from other media firms. I had all but given up hope when I heard his silky chuckle. My head turned instantly, automatically, towards the sound and there he was, surrounded by a group of businessmen, laughing away at his wit. I suppose that was his element, really, to be surrounded by admirers. For a moment, I merely stood there watching him interact with these people, enjoying the smile on his face that I hadn't seen in what felt like ages. I wondered if he would look this way, take notice of me in his dress. I wondered if he would smile in that warm, smug way that he seemed to reserve for me.

As though he had heard my silent plea, his head started to turn in my direction, only to be distracted by a stunning blonde. I was disappointed and internally raging with jealousy as she gripped his arm possessively. He smiled at her, but even from this distance I could tell it was one of his unkind smiles, usually reserved for Lethal Lucie. I felt smug for a split second before realizing that the blonde in the tiny red dress _was_ Lethal Lucie. I scowled miserably at the back of her head.

"Champagne, madam," a voice said out of nowhere. I turned to find a tray of champagne before me.

"Ah, thank you," I said, grabbing a glass and chugging it. I reached for another before the waiter had a chance to escape. I wanted to go over and pry that little conniver's fingers off of Jareth's arm, but instead I stood watching in silence, glowering into my champagne glass. I imagine I would have stayed that way for quite some time had I not heard a very familiar voice behind me.

"Sarah?" the voice asked incredulously. I turned rapidly to face its owner and my face instantly spread into a wide smile.

"Toby?" I exclaimed, hugging my little brother tightly. We took a step back from each other to observe clothing. Toby raised his eyebrows and let out a low whistle as I laughed lightly.

"That's some dress!" he said smiling. I love my little brother; he's just this really wonderful, warm person. It's nice to think that I had a hand in the way he turned out, too.

"Working?" I asked, smirking at the tuxedo shirt and black pants. He looked down at himself and shrugged.

"Harvard ain't cheap, sis."

"Ain't? Gee, I hope they're teaching you better words than 'ain't' at Harvard," I joked. Toby laughed.

"Nah, we speak real good here," he replied playfully. His face became serious quickly as he tossed a look over his shoulder, "Listen, I have to get going. I'll chat with you later."

Within seconds he was gone, lost in the expanses of the makeshift kitchen. I sighed happily. I hadn't seen Toby in months, which was sad considering that we didn't live all that far away from one another. Time was always of the essence. Anyway, I was glad to have the distraction from my Lucie and Jareth watching. That sort of behaviour is downright damaging to one's mental health. That didn't stop me from preparing to turn around and watch again. I was setting down my empty glass on a nearby table when I heard Lucie's voice from behind me.

"What a lovely dress, Sarah. Where did you get it?"

I spun to answer her, apparently a little too fast and not at all prepared to see Jareth attached to her arm. I looked into his eyes as I answered.

"It was a gift," I said breathlessly. Concern flickered through Jareth's eyes as I blinked to regain focus. Apparently I shouldn't drink champagne quite so fast in the future.

"Really?" Lucie said, still clutching Jareth's arm tightly. "From whom?"

What a little minx! She knew damn well who it was from. Was he really here with her? If so, then I had sorely misjudged him.

"From the man who wasn't there," I mumbled, pinching the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger. The world was really spinning now.

"Miss Williams is unwell," I heard Jareth say. I didn't really here was Lucie said in response, but I did hear the sharp tones of Jareth immediately afterwards. "Lucie, please."

I smirked involuntarily at the coldness behind the words. I suddenly felt like a pre-schooler, fully prepared to taunt and stick out my tongue at her. That is, if I could have done so without vomiting.

I felt a warm, strong arm catch me around my shoulders and lead me from the room. Within seconds, I felt the crisp, cold night air on my face. I could instantly feel my world clearing a little. Jareth took off his jacket and dropped it around my shoulders. He wasn't looking at me; he was staring off over the Harvard grounds.

"Honestly, Sarah, the gala just started," he sighed, amusement colouring his voice.

"I didn't drink that much!" I protested hotly. "I just drank it too fast. I'll be fine in a few minutes. You can go on inside if you want to; don't want to keep Lucie waiting."

It was then that I felt his eyes boring into the side of my head. My cheeks were warm, probably a combination of the alcohol and my barely restrained anger.

"Is that what you want?" he asked quietly.

I didn't like the tone of his voice; he sounded wounded. I turned to face him and see what emotions his face betrayed. There actually was genuine pain there. My anger was subdued by guilt.

"No," I said begrudgingly. "I need to talk to you. Something has gone quite wrong with us."

"I agree," Jareth said easily. "Would you like to go somewhere warmer to talk?"

"No," I replied. "Too many people to take you away."

"Sarah," he started, his tone relaying that he felt I was being ridiculous. So what? If it was over, I wanted to know why. I didn't need to be told I was ridiculous either by tones or straight out.

"What happened in England?" I interrupted. My head was almost completely clear now. Jareth stared at me for a moment, as though contemplating his answer. He looked away, over the grounds again.

"Jareth," I started again. "What did you inherit?"

To be honest, I wasn't even sure I wanted to know but part of me knew that I _needed_ to know. Jareth turned to me again, pausing in thought once more.

"The truth, Sarah. I inherited the truth," he said finally.

"The truth? What?"

"About me," he said, running a hand through his hair. "About you…about _us._ And, also about my kingdom"

I blinked at him, suddenly wishing that I hadn't had anything to drink yet. But, I could see it in his face so very clearly.

"You have to go back," I said, understanding finally dawning on me.

"I do," he said shortly.

My eyes burned with unshed tears and I turned my face away from him. "I knew you'd leave me," I said bitterly biting back the tears.

"I was beginning to get the impression that you wanted me to leave," he said, his voice holding a slightly puzzled tone.

"Of course not," I mumbled into the cold breeze. "But, you were so cold…so cruel. I was angry. You were angry. I thought we'd come to an impasse."

"So did I," Jareth admitted. "Although I will admit that the fault was my own. You see I found out certain facts about choices and sacrifices I had made. I was angry at myself and I placed that anger upon you, having no other outlet."

"Who did you inherit 'the truth' from?" I asked. There was no sense in discussing past mistakes. We had a misunderstanding, and now we understood each other. End of discussion.

"A woman of no real consequence. A gypsy, powerful in the arts of deception," he replied truthfully. I turned to him again, confused.

"A gypsy? Wha-?"

Jareth swallowed and gazed at the stars for a moment. "Do you know the name of that constellation?" he asked, pointing upwards. I followed his finger and frowned. Why was he asking about the stars now, as though we were simply lovers without a care in the world?

"Uh…Orion, I think," I answered, confused.

"And, do you see that constellation?" he asked, pointing far off to the left, nearly on the horizon. I could barely make out what looked like two sticks.

"Mmhmm," I mumbled, "Gemini."

"Right. That star," he said pointing at the brightest one, "That star is Castor."

I frowned. Orion and Castor. The pair sounded familiar for some reason, but I couldn't place it.

"And, we," he said, smiling lightly, "are directly in between them."

I looked up at the sky again, trying to figure out where he was coming from. "Okay," I said slowly. I looked at him expectantly and he sighed resignedly.

"After you defeated my labyrinth and rejected me, I was desperate," he started. "I realized, being rather old and very alone, that I had not met a person in all that time who had made me feel as you did. I wanted you, or maybe even needed you, so very urgently. I couldn't accept that you had slipped through my fingers. But given your final declaration, there was little that I could do about that by myself – so I sought some outside help."

"The gypsy woman?" I asked, enthralled. It was both surreal and quite flattering to think that I had made such and impression on the Goblin King at such a young age.

"She was apparently quite good at weaving deceptions, and I am not afraid to tell you that I was not above deceiving you simply to possess you. However, she wouldn't do that for me. She told me that our fates were certainly intertwined, but the thread was thin and inconsistent given the current situation. She told me that I would most certainly lose you entirely should I deceive you. Now I know how right she was."

I smiled warmly. The gypsy woman was infinitely wise.

"The gypsy woman refused to touch your memories, insisting that with your youth and the path that fate had laid in store for you, you would most certainly forget about me on your own accord."

I nodded. This was true. It was both very sad and somehow relieving to discover that my life up until now had been set in stone.  
"But," Jareth said quietly, "And, there's always a 'but', _I _would be required to lose all of my memories and take up a set of new ones. This would mean leaving my castle and kingdom ungoverned for an undisclosed amount of time. You would imagine that this was a difficult decision for me, but such is my nature to give in to rash impulses. It was not a difficult decision. I gave it up without a thought. _That_ is how deep my obsession was. And, I call it an obsession, Sarah, because that's what it was."

My brow furrowed as I tried to take this all in. I nodded absently. Really, I couldn't figure out what was _that _great about me at fifteen. Now I can tell you that I have a lot of spunk, but at fifteen? As though Jareth had seen my puzzlement, he continued with an explanation.

"I was in love with your innocence, your warm heart, your defiance, and your underlying cruelty. I was in love with everything about you, but not with _you_. Regardless, the gypsy woman told me that with my new set of memories, I would make my way in your world alone for a fashion, until our paths eventually crossed again. She told me that when our paths crossed, I would have to seize the moment or it would slip away."

I recalled his playful demand for a date in honour of the destroyed suit when we first met. He had seized the moment, indeed, flirting with a strange woman in the middle of a sidewalk in front of an advertising firm and in between a Security provider and a law office. I frowned again, something was niggling its way to the front of my mind. Something I was almost forgetting…

"There was a family who had just lost a son. They were called the Knightly family, and their son was around eighteen years old when he passed on. They had come to the gypsy woman hoping that she could ease their pain and, heaven forbid, bring back their son. She could do neither alone, but with my spirit and body she could give them the semblance of both. And so, I was given the Knightly boy's memories. Master of deception as she was, she allowed me to retain my name to keep the back of my mind forever linked to my fate."

I couldn't think of anything to say. This story was so convoluted and intense that I was lost in its complexity. All this for me? It hardly seemed reasonable or believable. Jareth watched my face carefully and then continued. How painful it must have been for him to lay himself bare like that!

"After she had suppressed my memories and given me a new set, she hid behind the guise of a fortune teller. The only thing that I recall about this woman from the Knightly persona is her 'reading' my palm when I was eighteen. I wonder if you know what she said," he speculated. I gave him a blank look and a soft smile, eagerly awaiting the next turn in this story of his. "She told me that I would meet the love of my life on the path between the stars. I was to catch her like a falling star, but never stifle her brightness."

Jareth laughed easily, lost in nostalgia. "I had no idea what she meant then."

That's when it hit me - finally. Orion. Castor. The Security providers and the law office! "I ran into you between Orion and Castor!" I exclaimed in awe.

Jareth smiled and nodded. "Yes. Yes, you did. Quite literally and on more than one occasion."

I smiled, overwhelmed by this incredible knowledge. I had been sitting on the fence for so long about the concept of fate and this story just pushed me right over it.

"I realize now what the gypsy woman had done for me. In order to 'have' you as I wanted, I had to love you, Sarah. Not as a selfish king loves a prized possession, but as a man loves a woman."

My smile only grew wider with that statement and I stared at him in awe. I found myself leaning into him automatically, wrapping my arms around him and burying my face into his chest. I looked up at him, a smile across my face. He ran a finger along my jaw delicately tilting my chin upwards, leaning in to kiss me. It soft, swarm and tenuous. Once again I felt as though he thought that I was breakable. A breakable little treasure in his arms. He really should have known better by then. While he was kissing me, I remembered how I could see the labyrinth in his kisses. I was _there_ when he kissed me. I broke away and asked because I couldn't stop myself.

"But, how come I could see the labyrinth when we kissed?"

Jareth was taken aback. "You could?"

I nodded. Jareth shook his head lightly.

"I don't know. Though I do know that I was remembering snippets of my lands with each kiss, as well. Perhaps it was because we are so tightly wound together by fate."

I frowned a tiny bit, wondering if the gypsy had laid down a little extra magic on Jareth. If she had, it was clear that Jareth was not aware of it at all. Remembering those brief views of the labyrinth in his kisses, I suddenly recalled that last frantic kiss. My next question had to be asked with care.

"Jareth, what has happened to the labyrinth in your absence?"

I tried very hard not to make the question sound accusatory in any way, but his eyes darkened with silent rage. At the very least, I now knew that this rage had never been directed at me.

"It's…," he started, inhaling deeply as though to say the next words would destroy him.

"In decay," I finished softly. Jareth's eyes snapped up to mine, confusion mingling with relief in the murky blue depths.

"How…?"

"I saw it," I said plainly, shrugging slightly. "When you last kissed me."

He looked away, as though ashamed for kissing me in that manner. I smiled softly.

"I told you that you didn't need permission."

He stifled a laugh and smiled sadly.

"I have to go back, Sarah," he said seriously. "I can't neglect it any further. I don't even know if I can save it now."

"Okay," I whispered.

Jareth smiled bitterly, reaching a hand up to run his fingers along my cheek. I leaned into his hand and closed my eyes.

"Just when I found you again," he mumbled. "All for nothing."

"All for nothing?" I repeated, my eyes still closed. "After all this, you'd rather take Lucie back with you?"

I opened my eyes, a grin playing on my lips. Jareth didn't smile; he merely looked defeated.

"I can't come back, Sarah. There's been too much damage for me to leave it again. It would fall apart and cease to exist. The power of dreams is not as strong as it once was."

"Okay," I said, shrugging. "So, I'll go with you."

I couldn't help but smile as realization slowly filled Jareth's face.

"You'd go with me?" he asked, disbelievingly.

I stared at him and said the following very slowly and very condescendingly, "Would you rather Lucie go?"

"God, no," he replied, stone-faced. I smiled.

"What about Toby? And, your work?" he asked nervously. His manner made me giggle internally. It was the same as the day I accidentally told him that I loved him. He was flustered. The Goblin King was flustered. Because of me. _Me._ I thought about his question for a moment.

"Well, you said you couldn't come back to live here, but surely we can visit?" I looked at him hopefully. If not, I would need a little time to explain to my baby brother.

"Oh," Jareth said, as though he'd never even thought of the concept. "Of course."

"Good," I said, smiling. "As for my job, well one more day with Lethal Lucie and I'd quit. Besides, if the labyrinth is looking as bad as I envisioned it, you're going to need a good ad campaign."

Jareth just stared at me for a long while, chuckling silkily and wrapping his arms around me. I snuggled against his chest and smiled. After everything that had happened, after all the blood, sweat and tears, I just knew that we would work out somehow. Even though Mr. Knightly had caused me so much trouble during these last two months. Even though he'd caused me to break unwritten company policies, remember a long forgotten past, work doubly hard for my bread and, topped it all by pissing me off. Even though all these things had happened, and had caused me quite a bit of trouble, the real trouble with Mr. Knightly was none of these things. These things paled in comparison to the _real _trouble. For, you see, the _real_ trouble with Mr. Knightly was far worse. The real trouble with Mr. Knightly was that he had made me fall in love with him.

-Fin-

**AN #2: I realize that I used that last line in the last chapter, or at least close to it. Sorry, I am going back and changing and/or deleting it from the previous chapter. Sorry. ;( It was an oversight on my part.**


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